Catching Lightning In A Bottle
by Vorazlov28
Summary: Breaking into Konoha was suicide. Hashirama had the power of a god; Madara, the eyes of devil. And Tobirama ... kami, Tobirama might of been the worst of them all. But Mitsuki didn't have a choice. Konoha was her last bet. Breaking in might have been easy, but getting out might just cost her everything she has left. End of Warring Era. TobixOC
1. Prologue

**Warnings:** Mad scientist self-searching, angst, mild body hate, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Kishimoto is brilliant. I write fanfics. Enough said.

 **Notes:** Hello everyone. I swear this story started off as a small little zap of inspiration, and it promptly exploded into dozens of chapters. Well, it's truly a monster now. Tobirama deserves some more lovin'. Any unknown characters are my brain children.

A big thanks to my beta, DimiGex for catching all those pesky things I overlook. You've been truly lovely :)

Updates will be about every other week, give or take a day or two.

* * *

 **Catching Lightning in A Bottle**

 **Prologue**

The saw scraped through the bone with a terrible, shuddering moan that echoed through the isolated bowels of the Kenshin Compound. The motion felt smooth, a precise juxtaposition to the grinding drag the saw made; it cut easily, making way to shove aside the blood and musculature protected underneath. Though the organs sat still, they seemed to pulse under Hideyoshi's fingertips as each bone gave way to another piece of the puzzle.

Humans were weak.

 _Fragile_.

Hideyoshi leaned away from the medical table in his personal lab and stared up at the glowing halogen lights. It'd been hours since he'd started. Exhaustion flooded him, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when he was so close to finding what he needed. Wiping the sweat that had gathered against the exposed alabaster skin of his forehead, Hideyoshi paused for another moment to dab at the bubbling blood oozing from the human's peeled skin with a clean swab before returning to his work.

Remarkable, considering the body had been dead for almost three hours.

By now lividity would usually have set in; the blood should have settled towards the lowest point in the body. There, it normally clotted, gravity making the typical bruising effect on the skin. To have such a fresh sample felt strange. The other bodies Hideyoshi worked with normally had to travel back from the front lines of his staged assault on various villages. The process could take up to three weeks. This body was _fresh._ Annoying really. Newly deceased bodies were always so much _messier_.

Even the dead caused problems for him.

The body splayed out, skin ripped back and pinned down like a flower opening to reveal its precious nectar. Like the hundreds of other bodies before it, vacant eyes, glassy in death, stared blindly as they waited for their cremation.

Yet, this body never stopped oozing, to stop groaning and jerking. Dead or alive, it didn't matter. He kept sawing, kept ripping and cutting, pushing and pulling until the body sat still. Others might call it crazy, but despite being deceased Hideyoshi could always _feel_ the life still lingering within.

People were so easily broken, so easily crushed.

He pulled the ribs aside, tossing the useless bones blindly into a silver bin at the end of the table and revealing the beautiful gems he sought. Spider webs of veins crisscrossed the organs in a tantalizing display of purple, maroon, and white, a truly delectable dance of flesh. Even dead, the body pulsated with the promise of life and hope.

At least… for Hideyoshi.

Nothing in the world left an impression the way flesh could, the tender succulent parts of the body people took for granted. Maybe it was the simplicity of it all, but there was something truly captivating about death. The organs and veins rang with spirit, with chakra. How precious, how singular it was.

Oh, how he missed it.

 _That_ was his deadly secret. His flesh slowly rotted within, everything precious and necessary for life crumbling in pitiful decay. The disintegration hadn't manifested on the surface yet, but only through his sheer force of will.

Seals and other countermeasures could only hold back so much. Despite looking every bit the firm young man he should have been, time ran out faster than he wanted, ticking precariously forward in a deadly dance of patience.

No one could know.

Perhaps he hadn't even realized how much the decay had already set into his mind until he moved elbow deep inside that tender, succulent _flesh_ to reach all of the little prizes within _._ Everything felt warm, moist, and suddenly there was a blistering contrast to the cold decomposition inside his body, and Hideyoshi mourned, painfully aware of what he'd already lost.

Then again, that was the real problem: only destroyed, torn, and bleeding—only then would he be whole again. In the moment a life ended he lived. And he couldn't change that. No one could.

Flesh. Blood.

Not the arteries or ventricles. Not the frozen heart, still warm through the thin, bloody surgical gloves. No.

What he sought after was much finer than those parts, impossibly more delicate. _Chakra._

Chakra networks were the smallest form of veins intricately woven through all of the major organs of the human body. They were the clusters of porcelain tunnels connecting a regular human to a greater power within, nearly invisible to the naked eye.

It was a power he wanted.

Yet, no matter which part he cut and inspected, no matter how deep he looked and how carefully he carved, Hideyoshi could never find the answer he sought. The one answer he never realized he searched for these last several years. _How_? _How_ to get everything that had been stolen from his steely fingers? _How_ to stop the disease eating him alive from the inside out? _How_ to be alive when he already felt dead inside?

Ripping the organs out with a sucking spurt and a moment of resistance, then everything rested in his hands.

This time he had it. The answer had to be here.

Specks of blood splattered across his mask, marring the ghostly skin that had hidden from the sun. More sweat beaded, still Hideyoshi cut and sawed and pulled, until the body wasn't a body at all.

Feelings made them weak.

He didn't have time to deal with weakness.

* * *

 _Two Weeks Before_

Closing her eyes for the briefest of moments, Mitsuki took a final calming breath—deeper and deeper until it felt like her lungs were going to burst with the scent of mud and smoke on the wind—before pulling down her dark mask and letting the air _whoosh_ out all at once.

Then, she jumped.

Branches rushed by as her body fell towards the forest floor, speeding towards her fast enough to make her eyes water in the crisp air. At the last second, she arced her body, bowing up with her core to catch the back of her knees on a sturdy branch and sling her forwards into the air. As the next branch raced closer, she stepped out, landing with a graceful step. Then _gone,_ shooting off to another thick branch in the direction of the budding village. The familiar warm burn of chakra rolled through her muscles, pushing higher, further, and faster with the same exhilarating rush she had become accustomed to since she was a little girl, dancing along her blacked out skin in tingles. A portion of her mind eased despite the delicacy of the mission. It was a soft power that flickered along her skin and rippled through her like a best friend.

 _Chakra._

Humming with life, Mitsuki shot forward, jumping stealthily along the thickest branches without a sound. With the break of rain, the air hung heavy all around, pulling her down to the earth as she leapt through the canopy. The sharp winter air bit at any exposed skin, growing stronger when the trees became sparse. Eyeing the growing village ahead, she sent a burst of energy to her feet, launching herself higher like a catapult, until the air chilled and suddenly Mitsuki felt the world fall away in blissful weightlessness.

 _Infiltrate, retrieve, and retreat._

The mission was simple and straightforward.

At least, it _should_ have been all of those things if not for one specific fact. _This_ was the newest village in the ninja world; the only one of it's kind. A powerhouse.

With the cold air pushing against her face as she hovered, Mitsuki closed her eyes for a moment, allowing a second of clarity before the world shifted. Slowly her gut rose, the momentum changing and flipping.

Then she fell. Spinning down towards the third story building, she waited for the right moment to open her body and halt her momentum. Like a cat, she stretched out and instantly balled up tight, shifting her weight to cushion her landing. The moment her feet touched the terracotta tiles she leapt along roofs, pushing deeper and deeper towards the heart of the village. Under the moonlight peeking through storm clouds, her gear blended with the dark, matching the rainy night and letting her disappear into the shadows.

A heavy feeling disrupted the peaceful village. An ominous crackling of energy brewed like something coming, a storm simmering over the horizon. Her feet were light and any trace of her presence undetectable as Mitsuki leapt from shadow to shadow, chakra carefully under control.

It'd been a long time since she'd infiltrated a village—if this place could even be considered as one since it had only popped up a few days ago—and even longer since creeping inside unseen in such a fortified place. It'd been even longer _still_ since she'd gone alone on a mission.

Mitsuki rolled her shoulders, keeping her chakra held tightly within every inch of her skin.

It felt _good._

Riotous laughter sounded up ahead and she paused, sinking back into the welcoming shadows of a smoking chimney. Absentmindedly her fingers brushed against the weapon pouch on her leg, touching the sharp metal kunai and shuriken hidden within.

Pulling one might alert someone sensitive to the pressing warning of danger, but if she didn't and they turned, she would have to dodge and flee.

What to do? What to do?

By the sounds of things, the group of people – men judging by the low pitches of their voices in the dark – were headed in her general direction, jovial for such a bitter frost. Warmth seeped out where her back brushed the wall, reminding her of how cruel the cold could be. She didn't dare move. Her fingers twitched over her ninja pouch, waiting for the men to draw closer. Only ninja and refugees resided in the village now until there was enough room and security to house the civilians.

Everyone was a threat.

In the streets down below, another group of ninja left the warmth to trek back through the last frost, passing the others down below. They wandered by after brief comradery, slipping into a makeshift restaurant.

She waited, counting seconds as the door shut, hand still hovering over her weapons.

With a deep breath, Mitsuki closed her eyes and expanded her mind as she had been taught as a little girl to sense out the surroundings, stretching her focus and awareness from her body to the world around. A pulse shot out like a ripple, traveling through buildings and lighting people and voices. Vibrations like echos tickled across walls, faces, and sounds. It was a queer sensation, as if she could _see_ the actual strum of chakra within those nearby. Each person resonated a little differently, almost like different fingerprints pushing against her mind. The air felt damp, frigid under the cold winter moon and it felt heavy like mud on her mental eye. Faint traces of smoke and something crisp lingered. Nothing fresh. Nothing dangerous.

The rain started trickling down again. As her energy rang back it appeared to sparkle, lighting every surface and Mitsuki couldn't stop the shiver that ran through her.

 _Time to move_. Mitsuki crouched down, allowing her chakra collect in her feet once more. Keeping it tight and close, she repressed as much energy as she could against any watchful eyes. It gathered like a storm.

When the door swung shut behind the men, Mitsuki's eyes snapped open again. The rain streamed down like shards of ice. She pushed onward, towards the main tower in the heart of the village. Men armed with swords, maces, and sharp metal that glinted in the low light passed by in twos and fours. She leapt and soared from roof to roof, slinking through the shadows as if they were her home. By the time their heads swivelled around in a lazy glance, her shadow vanished, long gone with steps lighter than a ghost.

At the very back center of the village, a tall tower stood high above the surrounding buildings and tents. It rose in front of the vast mountainside framing the back of the village like a beacon to everyone around.

 _Get in. Get out. Find the information fast and run._

Moving stealthily, Mitsuki took a running start from the roof of the building she stood on, and launched herself over the walkway where two guards stood on watch. She caught herself silently against the outer wall, chakra stretching out of her fingers like glue to keep her from falling.

The vault should be in the lowest levels of the building with the highest security until a new location could be built for them. At least, her contact outside of the village promised that. There the Senju and Uchiha leaders held all their important documents, vital plans, and—most importantly—clan secrets. All she had to do hope Koneko was right.

Scaling the side of the wall with chakra stuck to her fingers and shoes was easy thanks to the darkness. Even those who looked around glanced over her small form against the black sky.

Without the face of the moon watching her, getting inside was child's play.

Peeking around the corner of an upper story window she spotted two men hovering over a desk, speaking in low voices. Flinching back, she waited a second, taking the two in to see if they had sensed her, but mercifully their eyes never wandered over to the window she peeked through. Whatever they were pondering must have completely drawn their focus.

They had to be Hashirama and Tobirama, the two fearsome Senju leading the charge into peace and prosperity. No one else would be in the main headquarter tower in the top office at this time of night. Assuming all of the rumour and talk she'd heard around the Elemental Nations was true, the tall man with long brown hair and dark eyes facing her had to be Hashirama Senju, the older of the two. While long brown hair seemed fairly common, the stark white hair of the man next to him was far from it. Even amongst the Senju, Tobirama stood out as a foreign threat.

 _Whatever you do,_ avoid _the two Senju brothers if you can. If you see them,_ get out _._

Cursing her luck under her breath, Mitsuki dropped her head back against the wall with the faintest _thud_. Well, too late now. She hadn't even made it inside yet.

How often were the two of them really going to be outside of the tower though? Considering the size and location, this had to be where the two brothers planned to make the head of operations for the village. The odds of both of them _and_ the leader of the Uchiha being far enough away were practically little to none.

She couldn't give up and run away. If she ran every time she saw them, she'd never get in.

This could be the only chance she got…

So she stayed, crouching low on the overhanging roof outside the propped open window, feeling the icy rain that continued to sprinkle down and soak through her clothes. Her mind flickered through countless different ways she might be able to slip by without being detected. She thought, and she watched.

Hashirama was the most powerful Senju alive, being one of the founders of the village by historically finding a way to come to terms with Senju's enemy Madara Uchiha. Stories stretched across all of the elemental nations of the two clan's wars lasting for centuries, killing and slaying each other with malicious cruelty. The battles were legendary. Terrain levelled. Great warriors were squashed with a flick of a wrist. Children slaughtered.

Mitsuki remembered the loose sketches written down from the village bingo book back home, warning even little children to fear the face of Hashirama and Tobirama Senju as respective heads of their clan.

With Tobirama, one of the most brilliant and acute sensory ninjas, the Senju brothers were extremely powerful. He was the brain behind Hashirama's brawn and spirit. He was the mastermind that concocted structure, order, rules, and theories no one else had even imagined, inventing jutsu that completely restructured how battles were fought everywhere. Shadow clones, replacement jutsus, masking chakra, all of that came from the terrifying brain of Tobirama. The two were dangerous. Deadly. The last few days she'd been in the makeshift village, she'd spent over half of her time ducking corners and slipping along alleys to keep out of their sight whenever she hard people greeting them as they went down the street.

Tobirama became the real problem here. It would take half a second for Tobirama to mold his chakra and sense her.

 _You'll find what you need in that village. Go there and be safe._

Resting back against the wall underneath the open window, Mitsuki closed her eyes to listen for a moment, trying to determine if she should call things off or push her luck in getting inside. This was the closest she'd ever been to the two, and despite her lingering curiosity, it might be suicide to hang around.

Through the soft patter of rain coming down in spurts, it took a moment for her ears to adjust to the low tones of their voice. "...carefully to make sure everything is run fairly. The wrong person could cause too much power for one clan."

"If the elders aren't someone the clan deems important or strong enough, they will think that we are taking advantage of them and there will be unrest. With the Sarutobi and Akamichi Clan's both here, we will have to meet with people individually to decide the best course."

"That will take too long. After the citizens vote, there needs to be a plan."

"Picking an elder from them will strengthen ties between the clans. But there has to be a way to assure their loyalty."

Mitsuki breathed softly, straining to listen, as a lull in the conversation made the trickle of water loud as seagulls. They were picking elders for the village. Whom they chose would determined where the power lay, and which direction the village would take. It was a crucial decision.

Her curiosity peaked, gluing her into place even though the rest of her screamed to get away.

One of them spoke, but it was too far away for her to hear. Glancing inside the window again, she saw that Hashirama had wandered over towards the other side of the room where a map of the surrounding area hung on the wall. Bold Kanji labelled it as a map of the entire Fire Nation, drawn with various light watercolour washes to mark territories.

Subconsciously she leaned closer, straining to hear the softly spoken words.

No.

It wasn't worth risking her mission to sate her curiosity. Pulling back from the window, she shuffled towards the edge of the roof hanging she knelt on to look for another window she could slip through. One waited off to the left. Without another thought, she dropped down, leaving like a breath of air.

Inside, Tobirama paused, his brothers rant on how this was a time of peace and unity between clans shifted towards the back of his mind as he glanced out the propped open window. Outside rain pittered down, but he could have sworn he felt something shift in the part of his brain that kept him alive.

"Tobi? What's is it?"

Arms folded, Tobirama reached out with a burst of chakra, hardly even trying as every chakra signature within the entire village appeared in the extra dimension he'd learned to see in, but no one was there. It must have been a ghost of a sound.

Tobirama shook his head, easing his stern gaze and refocusing on his concerned brother. "Nothing." His eyes flickered back to the window. "It was only the rain."

* * *

Exploring the Hokage tower, Mitsuki mapped out floors mentally as she moved through the building. The white walls and quiet halls were new to her; this was her first time making it past the guards after days of studying their movements. Several rooms branched off the main hallway. It appeared to be the only hallway on the floor, running around in a circle to every door on the level before coming to a single staircase leading up or down. That would be risky to move along since everyone had to take it, but other options were slim. This late at night she would simply have to hope that most people were sleeping.

Well, considering that she already knew that going up meant she would run into Hashirama and Tobirama, Mitsuki began her journey lower through the building.

She went around the various rooms on each floor, hiding behind doors and desks as guards and workers passed by, the entire time her blood thrumming in her veins.

Unsurprisingly, the tower was vast but the halls and rooms were strangely simplistic in their decor as she slunk around. Perhaps there hadn't been enough time to fully decorate as they focused on opening the village to citizens, but it gave the place an eerie feeling. Occasionally there would be an expensive vase upon a table and a carefully rendered poem illustrated above, but most areas were clear and barren. She took her time memorizing the layout, checking each room and making notes of when guards would pass.

Every room was important.

Most were desks, some with people and others without. She peeked through the doors, entering and sifting through paperwork at desks if no one was there or leaving as silent as the wind if someone was. All had some type of paperwork or plan for the growing village: missions, enemy movement, Intel, village reports, and financing.

Inside a room on the second floor, Mitsuki thumbed through a promising stack of papers about the new business of the village. Mitsuki scanned over each document when she could make it inside a room, looking for something of interest. Her eyes stopped as she saw that the temporary hospital ran out of night lock and were requesting a group go out and collect more from outside the village walls. _That would take days,_ she mused in her head, solutions and possibilities running through her head. After scanning over the document again she folded it neatly and slipped in into her clothes, glancing around.

 _I could do that._

No one would notice it missing. By the look of things it hadn't even made it up to Hashirama or Madara, the Uchiha leader of the village, for approval.

A noise make her look up and she quickly put everything else back as it'd been before. Not a paper poked out of place.

Then, she vanished.

With the stealth and grace of an assassin learned in the arts of everything deadly and silent, Mitsuki slinked from door to door, checking for what she needed. But what she hoped for wasn't in any of the rooms. The information she required, the only thing important enough to risk execution upon discovery, wasn't here. Holding back her frustration, she kept searching room to room, kept memorizing, but it was hard to remain focused like a fine comb. All of these rooms she checked were useless.

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Patience," she whispered. As quiet as it had been, it sounded sinful in the still silence of the tower, making her skin itch in unease.

If nothing else, it was important for her to know the entire layout before she infiltrated somewhere more heavily guarded. Surely the Senju and Uchiha were smart enough to lock all of their top-secret information on clans and jutsus someplace safe.

Right.

Sucking in another breath, Mitsuki forced herself to settle. All she had to do was think through where she might hide drastically important information from prying eyes. Most likely they'd put things in a place deep below ground or hidden through secret doors concealed by jutsu; a place untraceable and out of the way of common foot-traffic.

Sensing out again the make sure no one came closer, Mitsuki weighed the chances that she could find such a heavily guarded place in one night. (With _the_ most dangerous man in the entire village one story above her head and another completely unaccounted for.)

Should the worst happen, she could always break back in.

The thought tasted bitter.

Pulling the carefully drawn map from the folds of her clothing, she took a second to add in more details to the schematic of each floor and room. The map room had a low level fūinjutsu. Most of the other rooms appeared to be utilized as various office spaces. _That leaves…_

Trailing her finger over the building schematics she had, Mitsuki planned out the best way to get down the lower floors before hiding the sheet again and silently slipping from the room.

Slinking down the halls, she checked both ways and pushed deeper. Finally she got to the underground section of the building, likely the place where all of the most important and vital documents of the village were. After all, this was where Koneko told her to go. Before rounding the corner she checked to secure the area. With a little focus she couldn't sense anyone coming. _So far so good,_ she thought with a grin. If she was correct supposable there was a secret door somewhere around here—Aha!

Kneeling quickly, she dug two fingers into a slight opening next to a decadent hand woven rug, hardly noticeable unless you were looking for it. With an experimental tug, the rug fluttered away, revealing a hidden handle for a trap door.

 _Perfect._

Resisting the urge to rip open the door, she focused closely again with her chakra.

Immediately images bounced through her mental eye. Four armed men were in the hall. Traps ran along the walls, some faintly glowing with dormant chakra. Two more guards stood within the vault like sentinels. Another two patrolled the expanse of hallways moving in either direction past the other guards.

The security looked heavier here, heavier than she anticipated.

Taking a steadying breath, she opened up the hatch, easing the heavy concrete slab aside by the handle until it rested silently against the floor. Faint light broke up the ominous darkness. The stairs below were narrow and steep, winding away like a turret, but the spaced torches along the wall lit the smooth stone well enough. Glancing around her one more time to make sure no silent alarms or jutsu were triggered, Mitsuki carefully slipped down into the hole and descended.

A strange feeling washed over her, like a hand pressing against her soul. Faint chakra hummed to life and Mitsuki studied the edges of the trap door again to find delicate writing for a jutsu.

An identifier.

Panicking, Mitsuki froze in place while the seal identified and processed her chakra signature. It would probably set off an alarm. A siren. _Kami_ it was always a siren.

Yet … nothing happened.

Blinking open her eyes and wondering at what point she closed them, Mitsuki frowned as she felt the jutsu release her to continue onwards down into the lower vaults. _That wasn't supposed to happen._ Jutsu of that nature were always supposed to alert someone if anyone unauthorized stepped into an area. The last time she'd seen one was back in her own village to protect—

No.

Shaking her head, Mitsuki quickly refocused.

It was probably her seal. That was the only logical reason she might have been able to pass through. After all, that seal was the reason why she stood here, neck deep behind enemy lines, the reason that she risked everything to crawl into the bowels of the ninja world's strongest— _only_ —village and steal from them.

Unless she found a way to break that seal, so many innocent people would die.

For once, Mitsuki simply thanked whichever star chose to watch over her tonight. With just as much care as before, she closed the stone slab back over her head and started the long trek down the winding stairs into the lower information vaults.

Up ahead she heard him: the patrolling guard walked towards the mouth of the staircase. The faint flicker of light stretched out his shadow as he came close into a flickering viper. Thankfully on the stairs it was too easy to lean back against the wall, blocking her own shadow from giving her away. Darkness cradled her like a best friend from dangers sharp eyes.

The second she did her back scraped lightly against the stone and the loose fabric of her shirt caught.

 _No,_ she panicked, heart thudding to a halt in her chest.

The guard went completely still, not even making the usual noises of a human.

Turning tail, Mitsuki bolted back up the stairs, sending chakra to her feet and muffling her steps as well as she could, but it hardly mattered now. Her cover was blown. Seconds after she moved someone came down the passage after her in vicious pursuit. Launching back up the winding steps, her heart pounded, everything sharp.

She hadn't even made it down to the lower levels yet. She barely walked down the stairs. She didn't even get a chance to see the floor layout. Nothing.

Cursing again, she shoved the stone slab above her head aside, not caring that it scraped against the floor. This time she passed through the jutsu without any hesitations, and to be safe, tossed a smoke bomb down below. It went off with a muffled boom, louder in the stone stairway than it should have been, but her cringe was all the time she could spare. Heaving herself the rest of the way out she kicked the stone slab back in place to trap all of the peppered smoke below, flinching at the cluttering _crash_ it made. Moments later, it groaned as the ninja below converged on where she'd been.

But it was already too late: she was gone.

* * *

"Hashirama-dono!"

The two brothers started as three armed guards burst into Hashirama's office seconds after Mitsuki flashed away undetected. "Someone broke into the tower!" one shouted.

"What?" Hashirama gasped. Alarmed, he rushed over to them, asking questions, but Tobi already moved.

Shooting towards the window, Tobirama leaned out, his sharp eyes scanning the dark rain splattered night. He knew it. That had to have been the intruder listening in on their conversation earlier. Pressing a finger to the window frame, his molded chakra shot out like a whip, crashing over buildings and people in the streets in an instant stream of information. He could sense them, ninja out patrolling the streets, guards standing watch, unknowing of the intruder. He could feel everyone within the vicinity of the village and beyond, but even as he felt the chakra and saw the people, there wasn't a single person he didn't recognize. No one ran. No one even panicked. Even the best ninja left small trails of chakra he could catch.

His grip on the window frame clenched, cracking the wood with a pop as he searched further.

They were already gone.

 _That's impossible._

"Did they steal anything? How far did they make it?" Hashirama demanded.

One of the guards shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing is missing so far. The intruder entered through the trap door towards the information vaults below before they were detected."

"There's no signs to how they broke in!"

"They didn't trigger any of the alarms. Somehow they passed through the jutsu set up on the trapdoor without setting off anything."

Hashirama frowned, turning towards his brother who stared out the window with a dark scowl twisting his features. "Brother?"

His mind drifted far away. The intruder snuck past the identifier Mito put up? That identifier logged all energy signatures. Anyone unauthorized that tried forcing their way in should have been knocked unconscious. The alarm would have warned everyone.

Perhaps that why he wasn't able to sense the person in the nearby area. If they could somehow manipulate their chakra regulation—or even completely suppress it—theoretically they would be able to slip through the jutsu without setting off the alarm. If not, then they would have to systematically study the seal, breaking it down and altering it to create the perfect counter or nullifier. That would take days. Multiple breaches in security.

There was only one way to check.

Curling his lip in a scowl, Tobirama glanced back towards the others in the room. He didn't have to answer. The sour expression said everything as he locked gazes with his brother.

Hashirama frowned and turned back towards his ninja, every inch the leader they expected him to be. "Go search the tower. See if anything has been stolen, or if anyone saw someone who didn't belong tonight. Don't cause a panic whatever you do. We want this to stay quiet until we can figure out what they were after, and make sure to be careful. They could have set traps or stolen something. Report back to me whatever you find. They aren't in the tower anymore, but they could have left some trace behind."

"One of you fetch Mito Uzumaki," Tobirama ordered. "Have her inspect the barrier jutsu and report her findings to me."

All three men nodded, giving a polite bow and responding, "Hai!"

Before they could leave, Tobirama grabbed the arm of the shorter man with dark shaggy hair and a bandage resting across the bridge of his nose. The man trembled. Looking down at the younger man, his deep baritone voice left no room for debate, "You're coming to search the village with me."

"Y-Yes Tobirama-sama…"

* * *

Meanwhile on the outskirts of the village, Mitsuki swung down from a branch with a splash of mud and frigid water in front of a small one-story house. It was a sad little thing, crafted quickly with some patches and other mismatched materials, but there was no doubt that it was entirely hers.

Rather than entering the front door, she slipped around towards the back to avoid alerting anyone else at such a late hour. Pushing up her window, she heaved her small form inside, creating a puddle of mud and rainwater on the wooden floor, but honestly, it wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. As she turned to close the window she reached out simultaneously with her senses, feeling the other two presences in the house.

 _Good._ They were still asleep. Nothing but calm energy and soothing chakra cycles came back. Listening hard enough, she could even hear faint sounds of snores coming through the walls. At least the orphan children that had adopted her house hadn't noticed she'd left.

Not that they ever did.

It made her smile weakly thinking of the sleeping angels she looked after, wondering if more would come with the influx of villagers supposed to arrive within the next week or two.

Finally, more people would be coming to the village, giving her all of the distractions she needed to push further into the tower. Everyone would be too worried about housing locations, treaties between interested clans, and developing the financial marketplace and employment economy to worry about one little measly woman sneaking about.

Really, she _shouldn't_ take anyone else in. The two kids were already more than enough when she knew she'd have to flee the moment she got what she needed.

It was a shame the guards caught her so early tonight. Now, she'd have to wait at least a week for them to lower their defenses again, that is, _if_ this new village was structured anything like her old compound. Maybe with a little luck she'd be able to push into the central tower twice a week.

 _Not likely,_ she mused.

Still, her old home was the only thing she really had to compare it to. A ninja village of this size and structure had never been accomplished before, by any of the nations. Clans typically didn't move in together if alliances were formed, and frankly with the rate that politics changed and battles broke out, it wasn't a surprise that people were generally wary about any alliance formed.

There'd never been a place like this village before.

With a sigh, Mitsuki rubbed at the stress creeping in her temples, throbbing and whispering sinful lullabies in her ear. _Sleep. Close your eyes and sleep._

If only.

She stared at her own bed, looking at the soft blanket and welcoming pillow. A shuddering moan rippled deep within her bones at the sight— _please_ , _please_ , _please_ —but there were other things that must be done first, always something else that kept her from climbing into bed.

Mitsuki slowly stripped from her uniform, fighting as the wet material clung to her skin and stuck on her emaciated form. In the faint glow of the night, she could see each of her ribs poking out, feel her spine and elbows catch and resist as she tugged.

 _Sleep,_ a slithering voice whispered. It pushed closer, stealing her breath and making her head swim.

Ripping off her shirt, Mitsuki gasped, staring down at her hands. They trembled, quivering from that same terrible something lingering in the back of her head. Furiously, she stripped off everything else, peeling away layers of black at a time and tossing it with her other clothes in the hamper in the corner.

All but ripping on a nightshirt, Mitsuki carefully pushed aside her tami mat in order to reach the hidden trap door holding all of the forbidden and dangerous items she possessed. The room temporarily pulsed with chakra as she cancelled the protective seal. While it wasn't the best hiding place, anyone who stumble across it might confuse it for extra storage. The seal itself would only make the inner contents appear to be regular blankets and other miscellaneous supplies. It was the perfect place to set her gloves and mask, keeping the dark fabric hidden in case anyone randomly searched her house. Hurriedly, she sealed it.

Taking a breath, she slowly turned to begin the ritual of chores she had to complete every night on this mission. She started with scrubbing away at any trace of mud and water along the floor with a towel and heavy bristled brush she kept in her room for this very occasion. Afterwards, she stretched, cracking her back and feelings the knobby bones pop back into place with a shuddering groan. Slowly she went through all of her stretches: toe touches, extensions, pulls, and twists. It was a long and slow process, making sure she could stay limber, pushing the boney husk of herself further to _reach._

Finally, _finally_ she sat down at a small wooden desk and pulled out a dark notebook. The worn and cracked leather cover faded over the years and use. Dozens of the pages were filled with compact words; jutsus, seals, hand signs, herbs, and even floor plans were neatly written throughout the book, right behind all of her ideas from a life long ago.

Painstakingly, Mitsuki sat and sketched out everything she discovered today on her small low table in the room. If she was ever going to get down into the lower halls, she would need to know everything about the main tower. Every room, every patrol, every doorway, she needed to know it all.

Hours later, when her vision started to blur and her hand cramped, she finally tried to get ready for bed. Thankfully it was still dark, hopefully because it was still night rather than the black storm clouds coating the sky. It didn't matter either way, but the hour did little to comfort her. As she laid down, she focused on the lullaby of sleep of the house and the soothing hiss in the back of her mind. She was tired. So very, very tired.

It didn't work.

The second she hit the pillow, her entire mind blazed, racing and churning, mulling over every move she'd made tonight and what the future would hold. Even with her eyes weary and her body loose, she stared out into the distance.

 _Sleep,_ that same viperous voice hissed, tugging dots over her eyes and her bones into the mattress. _Close your eyes and sleep._

She listened, sinking low into the mattress and letting her tired eyes finally flicker shut for the night. _Kami_ , it felt wonderful to lie down for a moment. Then, she waited with patient arms for the deadly lull of unconsciousness to pull her under.

Her brain still screamed, stopping sleep from coming.

And she did nothing but lay there, praying for once her body would be merciful.

For now, she'd play the game and live a cover life, all the while sneaking closer and closer to her prize.

This wasn't an ordinary mission after all.

She couldn't fail.


	2. Chapter 1

**Warning:** Severe angst, some language, bodily threats, mild child abuse, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Yep, if I could have thought of this first, trust me, I would have found a way.

 **Notes:** Wow! Thanks you everyone so much for all of your favorites and follows! I loved reading through my reviews, though I still haven't decided if I want to be that person that responds to them all even though I read them. That can be kind of off-putting, you know? For the few that were worried about meeting and ending things too fast ... well, let's just say there's a lot coming. Like the others reading, I couldn't possibly stop this train without giving Tobirama as much loving as possible. Man's amazing :)

Anyways, I'll be putting any translations at the bottom in case some don't know all of the Japanese, (probably should have done that last chapter...) but if there are any questions, feel free to ask. I'm nice, promise.

Thanks again for my fabulous beta reader, Dimigex! Her sharp eyes catch all my little hints, lol

Expect the next update in another two weeks on Thursday night. (US time, that is). It's slow going, but I promise I won't stop!

* * *

 **Catching Lightning In A Bottle**

 **Chapter 1**

 _One Month Ago_

" _Heart heavy as the seas dull roar~_ "

Singing lowly in a somber gravel, Mitsuki sat towards the end of the bar recalling the tune of women gone mad waiting for the love of her life to return. The few other people in the small pop-up bar stared, some discretely and others without shame, but Mitsuki pretended not to notice. With the sky getting dark early, the smell of smoke and muck on the air left a haunting charm in this military village. One part too miserable to matter, and the other part too careless to mind.

Instead she sat, ignoring the telling burn on her back while she lackadaisically twisted the string to her thaumatrope and sang lowly. " _She watched her love sail away on the shore~…"_

The tighter she twisted the string, the faster the two images spun, one on each side of the coin. A bird with wings stretched towards the sky looked ready to take flight. As it turned, a caged trapped it inside, locking it in iron the faster it went. When it stopped, Mitsuki smoothed her fingers over the image of the empty cage, staring down at the faintly chipping paint, faded from years in the sun and salty air.

Grabbing the two strings again, she twisted them faster, watching it spin once more. The bird endlessly trapped in the cage until finally it jerked to a stop.

Maybe the cage had really been empty all along.

Absentmindedly, she realized her song died out; it was a sad miserable tale anyway. In a place like this, the bartender - ninja, assassin, _something_ her brain warned, as if it mattered - didn't even doubletake. Then again, dressed in a dark traveling cloak and several bland layers underneath, Mitsuki looked like half the other wandering fighters traveling the elemental nations. No one second guessed an injured dirty woman sitting in a bar. She belonged here.

Her cloak ripped at her wound as she leaned forward, tearing the tender skin. She snarled a curse. The fabric had dried to her body.

With a lazy glance around the room, forcing the miserable hum to hide the motion, Mitsuki scanned to see if anyone paying attention—

A few eyes. No one serious.

Probably.

Maybe.

 _Shit_ , that really hurt. She didn't even really care anymore if someone watched. With a deep breath she clenched her jaw, fingering the edge of her cloak. It ripped off with an agonizing groan.

Taking the leftover drink, she splashed a bit of it on her wound obscured by the dark fabric of her shirt. The second the sake touched the bloody gash on her side, a burning pain sparked through her body.

A few eyes wandered back towards her as she clenched the bar top with a bared hiss. A shuddering crack echoed over the quiet murmur of the room. A splinter. Her eyes flashed to all of their eyes with a vicious snap that made them glance away. Her fingers covered the crescent shapes scars in the wood.

Too much attention. Again.

" _You always have to be the center of the world, always the most important_ ," that incessant voice hissed. It snarled relentlessly, like the burn of vomit in the back of her throat.

Turning back towards the bar she gulped the rest of her drink. Time to leave. The sake burned in a gross twist of her gut. Then again, she'd never really been a drinker; she couldn't help but wonder why she even bothered. Maybe to heal the pain. Maybe to drown it. Maybe to prove she became something she wasn't, or possibly to find _something_ in herself. But the sting only made the emptiness worse and the pain worse and _Kami,_ everything was worse.

Feeling all of the gazes on her, Mitsuki stood, dropping some coins onto the counter and sticking the toy back in her pocket. She paused, eyeing the gaping crack in the wooden counter. A haunted memory tingled at the back of her mind, looking at the finger marks scarred into the wood. Just like that, a flood of things buried deep inside broke like shattered china. For one second the sheer weight froze her to the spot.

Then, it vanished.

As the memories passed, she tore herself away, not bothering to meet the eyes that were still glancing her way or deal with the shout of the angry owner that discovered the damage she'd left.

The man could probably fix it anyways; he was a ninja afterall.

Mitsuki's side twinged as she lifted her arm to push aside the privacy flaps, a painfully awful feeling that nearly made her buckle. The deep gash should probably be attended to by a medic, but Mitsuki didn't know any and didn't care enough to meet one now. It was suicide to draw attention to herself in an unknown village. Only ninja lived here, and ninja occupied villages were as safe as rogue gatherings of criminals. Instead, she pressed her other hand against it as if she could hold back the blood and pain. As if she could hold the pieces of herself inside that were slipping between her weak fingers and falling out in a bloody mess like glass all over the floor. Then again, maybe the pieces never belonged to her in the first place. Maybe they were stolen time and all she had only ever been a cracked, broken shell trying to fly away, mangled wings and all.

"Watch it," a man hissed, nearly clipping her shoulder in her delirious wobble.

It slipped out before she could stop herself. "Sorry."

The man never looked, only melted back in the light bustle of people trudging down the lightly dusted walkways. Snow never should touch the ground in the Fire Nation, she decided after squinting to try and find the man's head. Silly really. She couldn't even remember what he looked like.

Right. _Focus_.

This was a mission.

Coming here represented the last miserable chance she would get to finally find what she needed to change everything. No matter what, she wouldn't waste her chance going to a silly _medical ninja_ or rude _bastards_ because her side hurt.

Glancing towards the moon, she stared up at the glowing celestial orb. Haunting really. Nothing so ethereal and unassuming could ever be harmless. Directing her anger there was easy, but it hardly helped.

Some claimed god himself lived there, high in the heavens. Others said there were faces on the moon, ones whispering promises and taunting her with glimpses of futures she thought she could read. But she was wrong. She was wrong. She was wrong.

" _The moon looked down and it wept_ ," she murmured brokenly. "… _as she threw her soul away on a broken bet._ "

Mitsuki stumbled down the streets, humming and singing fragments of songs long forgotten, her voice oddly low. People shuffled out of her way as she waltzed unsteadily. She never could sing, her voice never finding the smooth melody that turned ears. No. She was a dying croak, a jumbled garble that grated and lingered like nails scratching down a person's back because everything else failed. Lingering was all she could ever do.

The blood still pulsed out of her wound, throbbing and hissing with every low tone.

"Good evening, Hashirama-sama!"

"Oh, Hashirama-sama! It's good to see you."

That name…. Mitsuki's ears perked, catching the chorus of cheerful greetings wafting down the next part of the street. Heads turned, glancing and leaning out to catch sight of the man who made this entire village possible.

 _Whatever you do_ , avoid _the two Senju brothers if you can_. _If you see them,_ get out.

Flowing like water, Mitsuki turned down the nearest street, weaving between the bodies pausing to look for Hashirama-sama. No one noticed the short woman pass through.

The man in question stepped past the mouth of the opening in a quick flash of brown hair through the heads. Bodies blocked his entire profile with respectful bows and happy voices. Not that Mitsuki looked. She stepped halfway down the other path.

" _'~Sinking for choice no one could expect_."

A few wandering ninja stared as she passed further away from the bustling crowd—whether or not they actually heard what she sang was debatable, but it didn't seem to matter. Her sharp ears could catch whispers of a crazy woman, deranged even. Mitsuki gave no sign of acknowledgement as they slid a little further to the side of the walkway to avoid her. Some even openly stared.

In a place like this, people probably knew most of each other. Someone might even be watching her now, assessing if she warranted a threat. Not that it mattered. As long as she could avoid the famous Senju brothers, nothing else mattered at all. People wouldn't start anything on their own without good reason.

She ignored them all, keeping her head down.

" _Oh what a crying shame~_ " she sang.

She stopped.

Suddenly silent, Mitsuki lolled her head around, eyebrows furrowed. She could have sworn that she heard something.

There it was again.

Muffled shouting inside a building nearby made her pause. Glancing down an alley of sorts between two buildings she saw a tent flap flutter open before a body tripped out. A kid, she realized, flew out onto his stomach, sliding and sinking into the mud from slop sinks being emptied. "Get the hell out ya urchin!" a man yelled, appearing in the doorway waving something menacingly.

"I didn't steal anything, I swear!" The kid's eyes watered, but it wasn't enough as a sharp kick sent him falling back down face first into the filth around him. His brown hair looked muddy, and his cheeks were wet with fresh tears as his bony body trembled. Then again, it could have all been the slop and crud making everything about him brown and dull.

She frowned, realizing she'd stopped in the middle of the main walkway, the few people that were out walking around her with low grumbles about consideration. Funny really, considering they were all ninja, able to walk on walls and water, yet they were being disturbed by _her_. They didn't seem to notice the kid's cries, or maybe they didn't care. Then again, maybe this happened all the time.

How sickening.

Glancing back down the aisle—it really was too big to be considered any alley, she mused—she watched the scene unfold, the man stalked towards the young thief.

It wasn't any of her business. After all, she wasn't even in this village to help.

 _People don't want your help,_ Mitsuki reminded herself pointedly. For once, she needed to stay out of it. Things were better that way. The world wasn't fair enough for good intentions and an insatiable desire of making things _better_ to actually work, and perhaps the fact that Mitsuki ever believed it could, showed her ignorance.

With a deep breath, she glanced up at the moon again: bright, looming, and cold.

Then, she moved.

As light as the wind, she appeared in front of the man, flicking the broom to the side with a snap of her wrist and pushing him firmly in the chest. Her feet wobbled in the sludge, but her stance held. He stumbled back, blinking in confusion. "What the…?"

Grasping her side with a flinch, Mitsuki swayed miserably, a hand still outstretched where she'd shoved the wicked man and her head dropped low to her chest. Blood flowed out again. Letting her head loll to the side against the pain, she bit back a groan, knees trembling unsteadily. _Kami_ , that hurt. Stupid wound. She really shouldn't be here, doing this. Even she could smell the stench of sake strong with a metallic tint in the air.

The man hesitated, glancing down at the hand still pressed firmly to her side. The smell reached across the alley over rotting food trampled in molding muck. "Who the hell are you?" he spat, holding out his broom threateningly.

Lifting her head a fraction, she stared tiredly at him through half lidded eyes. "Who are you?" she parroted, words barely formed.

The man's scowl deepened.

"Get out of here, Onna, before you get yourself into things you best not get into," he warned thickly, slowly coming closer.

Straightening slowly, Mitsuki winced, covering her wound again, but the man noticed. Staring down, he noticed the blood pooling down her side. Mitsuki nearly stumbled over her cloak in the mud, hiding the damage.

He stopped.

Slowly he took her in, reassessing her. No normal person could get a wound that size without having fought a battle. Now that he looked, of course she'd lost a lot of blood; half of her pant leg was stained dark where he mistook it as a stripe of color.

"You a ninja?" the man asked hesitantly, staring as if the answer would pop right out of her hollow eyes.

Mitsuki straightened. She threw away the drunken haze, lowering her arms to her side and straightened her spine like the fractured soldier she embodied. Everything changed like a ripple in the water. The pain wasn't really that great, nothing she hadn't felt, and nothing she hadn't survived before. Nothing she wouldn't feel again.

Noticing the powerful aura, pooling off her, the man hesitated again. The air shifted.

Mitsuki fingered the thaumatrope hidden in the folds of her clothes, barely keeping from pulling it out and seeing her regrets again with her own eyes. At the movement the man jerked, and she couldn't hold back the barking laugh.

He flinched.

"Do you know what honor is?" she pressed, seeing the weakness in front of her. This time the words flowed out smooth and thick like honey choking it's way down her throat.

Wetting his thick lips, the man squinted in the dark. "What?"

It was silly to think he would. Mitsuki frowned, looking at her blood on her hands. There had always been so much blood.

"What're you talkin' about, you crazy drunk?"

Shuffling closer, the man stole a glance over her shoulder towards the petty thief, assuring himself the kid hadn't run off. Mitsuki took the time to glance back as well—the man wouldn't actually do anything with her head turned—to take her first good look at the kid. He was young with bones as prominent as hers, but not young enough for someone not to know better. Under her level eye, he shriveled a bit inside himself, deflating like a balloon and the tears streamed faster. He looked filthy, that was for sure. Must be freezing in the winter air covered in that muck. It was hard to gauge his age with him curled in a small ball with his back against the building like the only option left in the world. Overall, he looked like every other war orphan wandering around villages.

She still couldn't decide if he was _dull_ or really covered in muck, _making_ him look dull. Underneath all of that revolting grime, nothing was even remotely noteworthy.

Definitely the muck.

"That your brat?" the man called.

Snapping out of her wayward thoughts, she turned back to the older man, taking in the jagged scar that ran across his chin in a haphazard swivel. Part of her wondered if she should lie, but the thought tasted just as ugly as it felt sickening.

"No."

They both blinked, staring too long and the moment festered in awkward unease.

Working his hands together anxiously, the man stepped forward, barely staying out of the swamp of sludge she'd mistakenly submerged herself in. Mitsuki stared at him levelly, daring him to continue, but something in the tilt of her head and big broken eyes threw everything off. Under the light of the moon, the bones of her cheek caught and everything sunk back hallowed and dying, like a nightmare come to life. She certainly didn't look like any ninja he'd ever seen, even when he used to fight himself.

For a moment it looked like he would push on as he staggered another step.

 _Fight me. Give me a reason to smash your head against the wall until your insides are out and you're eyes lose their fear and pain into the bottomless pit of—_

Blinking again, Mitsuki came back to the present, realizing the man angled away from her with a gruff scoff. His hands still worked furiously together, rubbing and twitching. The wood of the broom looked splintered so it must have been more of a compulsion than desire. She wondered what he'd seen in her eyes at that moment, what he saw that changed his mind so readily.

"If you weren't a lady, I'd teach you some manners, Onna. Now get outta here before I change my mind." Without waiting for a response, the man turned, heading back into whatever building he owned and didn't glance back.

Mitsuki frowned, looked back at her hands, feeling the rage, confusion, and all of the turmoil swirling tighter and tighter inside.

The blood dripped down. Pooling into an ocean at her feet, it sucked her down. Wet and thick, it ate her and filled her lungs. Filled her nose and mouth and bled into her eyes until her last cries were swallowed whole. The hands pulled—

She snapped back to the present with a jolt.

Her side throbbed and she clutched at it painfully, letting herself wither down and lie in the middle of the muck and mud, staring up at the moon. Up ahead a bird circled, dark as night and silhouetted against the eerie glow.

Strange.

Normally birds were never out at this hour, but then again maybe there wasn't even a bird at all. Blinking blearily, she tried to focus more, trying to determine if it was real, but no matter what, it flew too fast against the background of stars, spinning with a memory of smiles and a light joy like sunlight. Mitsuki smiled sardonically, nearly tasting the salt on the air again. It didn't help the pain. It didn't stop the tears or numb the years of bitter regrets and acidic hopes. It didn't answer why she laid here, saving some ratty brat in the middle of a village of enemies. It didn't bring more peace.

"Hey," a soft voice called, like the whisper of a dream. That wasn't right though. Her dreams never whispered or made promises.

Lolling her head to the side, Mitsuki saw the boy walking towards her. The mud caked up with the movement, threatening to blind her eye, but she only blinked. His arms were stretched out to deal with the wounded animal in front of him, stepping slowly and cautiously.

Mitsuki snorted in a sick kind of amusement, cringing as it sent a twinge through her body and more warm blood coated her fingers. Bleeding. Dying. But that wasn't really new anymore; she had been dying for a long time without even realizing it.

"Um, Miss? T-Thank you for saving me."

 _Miss?_

It was surprising he hadn't left let. She would have, probably. No, she frowned. That was another lie, or else she wouldn't be here, and she wouldn't be bleeding and crying and pleading for everything to—

Forcing her eyes to focus again, she stared at his face, noting it came a lot closer than before. She could tell his eyes were a soft muddled brown, so common and unnoticeable under his shaggy hair. No. That wasn't right. That _couldn't_ be right. They were hazel, specks of green and gold littered in them. Not brown like the mud coating his face and hair. Not the beautiful plain brown she wanted to see.

Hesitantly, the boy knelt in front of her, reaching out slowly in indecision. Before he could touch her, Mitsuki turned her head away, looking back up at the mocking face of the moon, that damn god that started all of this. Faintly, she heard him still calling to her. "Are you ok? Miss?" The panic pressed tighter the longer she stared at the nearly identical face of someone she cared about, enough to make her smile brokenly.

Life was such a cruel husk, giving promises and then ripping them away. _What was honor?_ Shivering suddenly, she pressed harder against her wound, trying to hold in all the fractured shards with her tiny hands, but the wound only splintered farther. Mitsuki wasn't even sure what honor meant anymore. One time, she thought she knew. She thought she'd figured out how to be honorable and strong, how to do the right thing and defend her people, her friends.

Suddenly the boy's face appeared over hers again, hovering within the foggy lines of her vision in front of the damned bird whirling up above in the night sky. _Oh Kami,_ he really looked like Taya-kun. Looking at her like the sole grace of goodness on the earth with such concern…

For some reason it felt harder to suck in air, everything getting cold as her hands began to tremble. "It's … Mitsuki … kid," she breathed.

Then she smelt it: the salt on the crisp wind. She could hear the waves crashing against the sparkling sand all around, wet and thick with ocean water.

"Mitsuki."

Turning her head, she stared at Tatsuya as he ran towards her. But the face was wrong, his hair color not quite right, and more than all of that the sky was dark and the air was cold. Now that she looked he wasn't really running at all. _All wrong_. Either way, she could hear that voice calling.

Maybe this village would be her only chance after all. Maybe here she could find truth.

That's right. She had her mission. Her last chance.

"Mitsuki!"

If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend the voice calling out to her came from someone else.

* * *

 _Present Day_

"Shit."

Mitsuki wiped off rivers of sweat with the spare cloth she kept tucked into the folds of her clothing. The sun hung low and shining, catching crystals of frost on blades of grass as she walked back towards her patchy house. The sky clung to the caress of night but the cold started to ease its bitter grip. The woods all around Mitsuki were calm and quiet within the shift between night and day, and for once she didn't have to worry about listening for the sounds of killers lurking behind brush underneath her calming breathing. Every step crunched as she slowly made her way back towards the village from her early morning run.

Despite the sun coming up, it felt like her bones were nearly ready to collapse. Too far. She'd made five laps around the growing village and if anything her mind felt duller than before. Muscles ached. Lungs trembled. More than any of that … she was tired.

Up ahead, perched in a tree like the most natural thing in the world, a painfully ordinary boy sat with messy brown hair that flopped down above his hazel eyes. He turned as he heard her curse, looking up from the small knife in his hands. "You're late," Takeda called, but it didn't sound quite like an accusation.

The boy was probably too used to her being late to really care anyways.

"Takeda-kun!" she smiled, waving towards the oldest orphan despite the sting the motion brought from the stitch in her side.

"Ohayou, Mi-chan," Takeda greeted, used to Mitsuki's cheerful grin at all ungodly hours and situations. Even looking a rightful mess with her hair plastered to her face in sweat and skin blotchy from running, she managed to look effervescent.

Takeda dropped to the ground with a slight thud, but the glint of metal had vanished somewhere in his clothes again and Mitsuki was preoccupied with his smile.

He fell in step as she passed by. "You're wet," he commented blandly and the thought was just too funny.

She snorted, trying to stretch her arms and keep her body moving. Normally, going for a run when she couldn't sleep helped; either she could actually catch a few hours of rest or she woke up enough to start the day. Days like this—wavering in between utter exhaustion and mind-numbing restless—were torture.

It was only a short walk to the small one-story abode she'd built, partly obscured by the trees and barren brush around it. Unlike most of the houses in the village, she'd forgone Hashirama's Mokuton in favor of the secrecy and privacy offered to those willing to live further away from the core of the village. The elegant arches and large spaces of Hashirama's amazing wood technique were limited to the heart of the village. The man constructed the village, singlehandedly, for the surge of civilians _in a day_. If he had the head for architecture or logistics, maybe he would have finished everything else that needed done.

Rumor had it Madara Uchiha had to step in and stop him before the idiot spent all his chakra completing the village. Not that she'd had the pleasure of seeing any of it. The thought that _anyone_ could have so much power was incredible.

It was _terrifying_ , damn it. She had to steal from that man.

Mitsuki held back a sigh as the fatigue hit her hard. She couldn't think about this so early in the morning, especially not when she could picture the hardly worn tami mat calling back in the furthest corner of the house.

"Mitsuki," Takeda called, snapping her out of her thoughts again.

She blinked, realizing that Takeda had somehow managed to open the door for her already and was watching her expectantly. For a second she stared, debating if he'd asked her something else while she'd been distracted or was only being polite again. With the raised eyebrow it was hard to tell.

Probably had.

Maybe.

 _Oh well_ , Mitsuki thought with a shrug, offering him a blinding grin as she stepped inside. He cringed when the smell followed.

Ruffling his unruly plain hair, Mitsuki murmured her thanks and used the chance to subtly take him in again. Over the past month as Takeda leached into her life, he'd grown a lot if his pants were already too short again. The thought lingered altogether painful and warming. If her eyes hovered a beat longer than normal over the angular cut of his cheeks and point of his chin, Mitsuki told herself it wasn't out of concern.

It was time to increase the number of traps she set again. Growing kids needed more food than she remembered.

Realizing Mitsuki let her hand linger a moment too long on his head, Takeda brushed it off with a huff. Mitsuki grinned to cover her tracks, snapping back to the present with practiced ease and continued inside. He rolled his eyes, shutting the door behind him as he followed her in. "Did you have a good run?" he asked politely, sounding suspiciously like he'd asked before.

None of her adopted children knew where she went early in the morning. Things were better that way. In the last couple of weeks since the civilians came into the village, three more orphans inserted themselves into her care, springing more questions about what she did and where she went—and Mitsuki realized it was lucky she loved children in their impossible, endless oddities. There were certainly enough of them to go around.

Thankfully, she'd been able to dance around any questions. She'd rather die before any of them so much as got an inkling about her true purpose and lifestyle. Keeping the children oblivious suited her fine, but she couldn't stop her eyes from flickering over to Takeda again, just to make sure.

He only smiled, an easy tilt of the lips she would have never seen on his face a few week ago. Concern never crossed his mind.

Kami, that smarted.

Humming in thought, she turned to flip over the tiled card that hung by the door on a simple nail to the blue side as a signal she came back. Out of all the harebrained ideas she'd come up with, it was by far the simplest way to let the kids know whether or not she was home, despite the fact the card hung with the red side visible most of the time. It wasn't much, but at least it was more than she got growing up. The brats weren't ever around unless there was food anyways.

Takeda waited, patient as always.

Satisfied, Mitsuki slipped out of her sandals in the narrow entrance, and finally provided a proper answer, "I did. I love all this wet stormy weather."

"Only you would like the freezing rain, Mi-san."

Mitsuki grinned cheekily at him, hiding the exhaustion and bone-weary fatigue deep down. "It didn't rain long this time; only a few minutes, really. Winters all but over now."

"You're up awful early this morning," she called after she finished washing off layers of salty sweat in a bucket by the sink by slipping a cloth under her clothes when needed. Takeda didn't blink from where he put away the dishes she'd washed before her run. By the time she stepped temporarily down the hall to toss the dirty clothes in the second room and slipped into the warm Happi resting on a hook next to the fire for this very occasion, Takeda was putting away the final plates.

"Not really," he answered, stepping up next to her with that gutting smile. He pulled out something metal from his pocket, glinting in the dim light of the room. Mitsuki's body stiffened—a nasty habit that would really get her killed one-day—before reaching out to grab the offered blade and feel the cold steel in her hand. If Takeda noticed her cringe, he didn't comment. "You're late," he declared again. "I've been finishing this up while I waited. Just sharpened it."

The knife looked a little small for a decent weapon, but the thick, curved blade worked perfectly for skinning and cleaning kills; possibly defense if the need arose. There was probably a better chance of scaring someone off before actually killing them in Takeda's hands. The blade would never puncture deep enough to rip vitals. Bouncing it lightly, she felt the weight, closing her eyes as her fingers sought the best grip. It didn't fit well, but Takeda's hands were still slightly smaller than hers, if a bit wider. Looking at it again, she angled the light along the razor side of the blades edge to see it looked crisp and straight.

Humming distractedly, Mitsuki asked, "Is it that late already?" It was a ploy; she knew what time it was. She wouldn't be back if it wasn't time, but everything else stopped as she took in the qualities of the blade.

This wasn't bad for a first try. A little uneven in spots, but not bad. Spinning it around the knife cut through the air with an ominous whistle.

Not bad at all.

Takeda was far too used to the strange moments Mitsuki would sudden drift off far away from her surroundings to mind when it took half a second too long for her to remember to respond. One second, Mitsuki absently stood stock still, eyes focused too intently on the blade to _see_ it, and the next it, life breathed back into her, fully animating a hollow statue. Though he'd never spoken a word of it, and doubted Mitsuki even noticed he knew, he'd always recognized when something else came into her oddly blue eyes. Whatever happened, it always vanished. Those were the small instances that reminded him the woman who rescued him weeks ago and took him in wasn't quite as perfect as he originally believed her to be. If he ever forgot, the way she twirled the blade around was enough to make his skin itch.

Blinking, Mitsuki refocused again and asked herself more than Takeda, "Who else is up?"

"Well, it looks like," he began, stepping in to check in the boy's room. A bustle broke out before Takeda could finish and a shout—"Mi-chan's back!"—cut him off as the sounds of footsteps racing down the hall drew attention towards Yamaguri walking in with a pleading look.

Mitsuki was … fond of kids, for the most part. For tiny larva-humans they were acceptable enough, at least, enough to find them adorable from time to time. Eventually they'd all turn into snot-nosed brats, but a little too much awkwardness and far too much bleeding trust to make them anything but endearing. More than a few people would agree she lacked the certain parenting skills required, and more often than not, she would have to agree with them. So when two pouty kids with a desperate look of help and fussy distaste appeared, Mitsuki assured herself that no one would look down on her more than they already did for hiding her smile behind her hand.

Yamaguri, only eight-years-old despite the temperament of a crotchety old man, stormed into the tiny kitchen with a face twisted like lemon. Even at the worst moments, he'd never been afraid to speak his mind. In fact, he found himself staying with Mitsuki and her band of outcast orphans because of it; no one liked the indigo haired brat who didn't take the time to get to know him.

"I'm not doing this," Yamaguri declared immediately. Folding his arms, he shot a pointed glare in Mitsuki's direction. "He can't come!"

There wasn't time for this.

"Ready?" Mitsuki interrupted as he opened his mouth to monologue. Had there been more time to sit around and watch the scene unfold, she would have loved listening to Yamaguri's fiery temper, but the sun was already nearly up, leaving only about forty-two minutes to—

Ryuuta burst around the corner, frothing in every inch of his five-year-old fury. "I don' care what ya say; I'm comin' too!" he declared, planting his foot for good measure.

Mitsuki sighed. A dull throb of a headache pushed in, and for a moment she almost wondered why she dealt with this.

The fiery redhead demanded the attention of the room, sleep riddled eyes blazing and determined. All of the baby fat rounded his face adorably, even with his glaring pout. It took Ryuuta a moment to realize everyone stared at him, but when he did, his face threatened to match the color of his hair. He blinked, cowing slightly before seeming to remember what he felt so upset about.

Takeda shot Mitsuki an exasperated look and she fought desperately to hide an exasperated sigh. Fighting it only saved her the small bit of sanity Yamaguri's and Ryuuta's reaction would have lost.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, wearily. "Ok, Ryu-chan, we just need—"

"Anyone who wakes up gets to go, an' I'm up!"

Yamaguri nearly snarled. "That doesn't matter, idiot! You're too small."

"Am not!"

Giving up on the two, Mitsuki turned back towards Takeda, her favorite out of all of the orphans. She flipped his knife around and caught it by the blade, offering it back the only was someone who handled weapons would. Takeda jerked. Her eyes narrowed on how he shifted his weight, adjusting to whatever happened, but she held her tongue against the flare of concern. "Careful now Takeda-kun. Don't want you getting distracted before we go out now."

Blood rushed to his cheeks as he snatched the blade out of her grip, nearly nicking her fingers in the process. Before he could start muttering about her catching him off guard, she cut in to soothe his ruffled feathers. "It's a fine blade. Did you do it yourself?"

He nodded. "I've been practicing like you showed me."

This time Takeda couldn't dodge her hand ruffling his hair. "Good boy."

When she turned, the two were still bickering: "—not true! I don't wanna have to deal with—"

"I don' care what you want!"

"—this all day. You can't come!"

Mitsuki clapped her hands, silencing them both with various gruntled expressions. "Alright! Let's get going!" Yamaguri and Ryuuta both opened their mouths to protest, but Mitsuki talked over them without a care, even as her smile felt more than a little strained. "I don't care who says what or what you think right now. We're late! Get your sandals and grab your jacket. It's still cold."

If Yamaguri stood taller than Mitsuki's ribs, his glare might have been intimidating.

Quickly patting her clothes, she checked to make sure she had everything she needed—paper bombs, wire, flares, a few treats, kunai, shuriken, and random other bits and bobs that were safely stored away in the many folds of her mid-waist overcoat and standard uwagi covering the mesh shirt underneath. No one would be able to see the strange bones and odd angles under all of the layers. Good. With a quick glance she confirmed that everyone put on enough warm clothes for the chilly early spring weather.

It was time to secure her cover story.

Covering the floor in hungry strides, Mitsuki headed straight towards Ryuuta, swinging him up under one arm and flipped the tile by the door back to red. Ryuuta let out a startled grunt in protest; she spoke over it. "Let's go everyone! Time to get moving!" she called cheerfully.

"Ack! Hey!" Ryuuta shouted, but Mitsuki ignored him. "Pu' me down! I can walk by myself! Mi-chan! _Mi-chan!_ You listenin' ta me?"

Yamaguri and Takeda paused and watched their adopted mother of sorts walk straight out the door without checking to see if they were following, Ryuuta kicking and shouting in her grasp. Then, like constant tornado she always embodied, Mitsuki vanished in a deafening press of silence leaving nothing but confused chaos and wonder.

For a moment the three of them stood in the entranceway staring.

"Why…?"

Yamaguri glanced towards Takeda, but he shrugged.

Nothing would ever be normal in this household.

* * *

"Le' me go! _Mi-chan!_ Le' me go!"

Rolling her eyes, Mitsuki playfully loosened her grip, letting him drop down a couple of inches to hear Ryuuta let out a shrill scream. His stout little body flailed. She caught him again with a chuckle, easily resettling his torso under her arm. All of the layers of clothes she wore should protect him from the jagged bones trying to poke out of her skin. He was the squishiest of all of them.

The gates were already visible through the barren trees up ahead. Takeda and Yamaguri still shouted somewhere close behind Mitsuki, but she didn't bother slowing down for them to catch up. Ninja needed to be fast on their feet after all. And if she wasn't helping them learn to protect themselves like ninja, Mitsuki didn't know what else she could really do for them. At least this way, she didn't have to wait for Ryuuta's little legs to keep up.

She checked to see if he finished throwing a fit yet as she walked. He clung to her arm, eyes wide and mouth sealed shut. For a second she couldn't help but think back to what her mother would have done, if she'd ever scared her or her siblings a little to make them see.

 _No._

She wouldn't. Mitsuki stopped the thoughts right there, cutting them off quick at the wick, because they were far too close to that dangerous line of thinking. Especially not now that there was hope of setting things a little closer to right than they had been in a long time. Instead, she smiled, putting on the same whimsical grin she always hid behind.

" _Please_ pu' me down," Ryuuta whispered.

 _There we go_. She knew he'd come around soon enough. "Ok!" Mitsuki chirped cheerfully, dropping him without another thought.

He flopped in a whirl. She stared amused as it took a second for him to find his feet again before whirling around on her to shout. "Hey! What was dat for?"

By then, the other three finally caught up, huffing a little too hard. "Alright everyone!" she said over Ryuuta's complaints. "Let's get going! Make sure you keep up; I don't slow down for short legs!"

"That doesn' mean I can't keep up!" Ryuuta squaked.

Mitsuki blinked owlishly. "Yes, it does." Walking two fingers across the air, she broke it down like the simplest fact in the world. "Little legs." Her eyes dropped pointedly towards his feet and up again. "You have twice as far to go. See? Twice as long."

"That's not—"

"Come on everyone," Mitsuki interrupted. Yamaguri let out a groan as Takeda sighed. She turned around and headed off without checking to see that they were following. "Jin's up ahead!"

Mitsuki felt her constant headache spring to life at the thought.

Jin Tojiro stood tall, thin and lanky in a boney way that might have been unsettling to those unused to the strange physical features some ninja tended to have. In particular, the Tojiro Clan was known for having dark marks around their eyes and Jin looked no different, donning a dash from each orb to the side of his face, making them appear even sharper. It'd only taken a day of the gates opening for him to command guard duty with his hawkish expression looming over everything. However, his smile was large and face kind, always finding Mitsuki even when she wished he wouldn't. If he noticed her face looked too slender or a little too sharp it didn't seem to bother him. Regardless, he'd been one of the first people to truly accept her and support what she tried to do, no matter how much thinking about it brought up nothing but strange twisting feelings.

As they came up and joined the slightly worn path leading from the gate, Jin and his partner, Kanta, came into view. Comically shorter than the giant, he represented everything standard in a Senju: brown hair, tanned skin, and full of emotion. The two guarded the North gate and monitored all foot traffic.

Yamaguri ran up, shooting past her and waving an arm. "Oi, Jin! Over here!"

Smiling slightly, she watched as Jin turned, raising an exaggerated hand towards his eyes to make out who raced towards him. Not that he needed to. After all, they came every morning around the same time and Mitsuki knew that by now he was attuned to their presence. She certainly was.

"Ohayo Yamaguri-kun!" Jin shouted, waving back. When the short temperamental boy finally reached him, Jin towered above with one hand casually on his hip. To anyone else it would have looked threatening. "Wasn't sure if you guys were coming today. You're late."

"Yeah, yeah," Yamaguri dismissed, rolling his eyes. "As if Mi-chan would ever let us sleep in…"

Jin laughed, a choppy awkward kind of sound.

The three children came to a stop underneath the walls standing forty feet high. In order to buy some more time before facing Jin, Mitsuki slowed her pace in hopes that they might distract him. It wouldn't, but she tried anyway. With the walls casting cold shadows, it protected the frost that'd gathered against the greening blades around, making her steps crunch too loudly to miss. She watched while Jin took them all in, and she made her way closer. When his eyes met hers a large smile break over his oddly handsome face, bright enough to challenge the light of the stars. It hit somewhere left of her heart, as always, pinching something vital. The pressure in her head pounded harder.

Yamaguri squealed something _definitely_ unmanly before circling Jin like a hawk. Jin laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, but didn't both stop the boy as he admired all of his ninja gear.

Mitsuki, grateful for the distraction, sucked in a deep breath the moment Jin turned his attention away to refocus her mind. If Jin wasn't careful, Yamaguri could easily slice off a finger fawning over Jin's large Sasumata strapped against his back. He'd tried twice already on previous trips. The forked top curved outward above the section of vicious short spikes and barbs littering the top fifth of the staff while the metal cap along the bottom had been converted to hold the long blade of a Naginata. It was an impressive classical Samurai weapon rarely seen due to its more pacifist nature of being a container, a 'man capturer', than lethal weapon. Yamaguri _adored_ it. He made a point to inspect every inch _each_ time he saw it.

"Something come up?" Kanta asked good-naturedly, dropping his head in his palm from his post at the check in booth.

" _Ryuuta_ had to come," Yamaguri muttered.

Kanta covered his chuckle with a lame cough. "I see."

Jin raised an eyebrow, nudging Kanta playfully next to him. Though not polar opposites, Kanta looked much smaller standing next to his giant partner, even with his spiky brown hair held up by his hatai-ate. Mitsuki swore he did it to look taller—not that she would ever breathe a word of it to anyone else. Neither minded as Yamaguri wandered around Jin, but Mitsuki caught the man straightening to let the steel catch the faint light of the morning like a preening peacock.

Kanta snorted to himself, murmuring something too low for Mitsuki's sharp ears to catch towards Jin. Hoping for one last distraction before he wandered off to temporarily lower the seal between the gates, Mitsuki swirled her head to find the smallest kid.

"Ne? What was that about keeping up, Ryu~ _chan_?" Mitsuki crooned loudly.

Everyone turned to see the little boy shuffling up to the path, already falling behind even though Mitsuki carried him well over half the way. His cheeks flamed red, threatening to match his ridiculous hair and the glare that he shot Mitsuki didn't quite burn as much because of it.

An elbow caught her low in the ribs.

Flinching, Mitsuki clutched the area dramatically, looking over at Takeda who raised an eyebrow disapprovingly. "Really Mi-san? Do you _have_ to bait him like that?"

 _Talk about sharp elbows,_ Mitsuki grumbled with a pout. _Or maybe there's not enough padding_. Shaking the thought aside, she laughed at the ridiculousness of a fourteen-year-old chastising _her_.

Ryuuta stopped next to Takeda, glowering down at his little feet and immediately leaning against his adopted brother's leg for support. "Told ya I could keep up…" he grumbled.

"Doesn't count," she determined relentlessly, if only to watch Ryuuta bristle again.

He looked too cute for his own good.

Jin laughed, a booming sound at the whole scene. "Looks like you've taught them a little too well, eh?"

Unable to avoid it any longer, she donned her smile and turned to face him. "Mornin' Jin," she greeted in her usual cheery drawl with a lazy wave. The deflection worked as intended—because _never_ in her _life_ would she ever be able to teach them enough.

The second Mitsuki's eyes met Jin's she realized he'd been waiting for her gaze again. Something shivered deep inside. However, she kept the same pleasant mask she always wore out in the village, unwilling to give Jin any hint that his obvious affections weren't returned.

"Ohayou Mitsuki-chan," he grinned, stepping up to her. Kanta already mosied off, no doubt to give them more privacy. This close, Jin towered over her small stature, which wasn't too surprising considering she'd always been smaller by standard and Jin loomed above anyone else she'd met. His eyes looked down, surprisingly soft for a face so fierce. "Looks like it's going to be pretty nice today now that the rain stopped."

The weather? _That_ was what he picked.

Mitsuki died a little on the inside.

Stealing a glance towards the sky, she noted the clouds were still slightly grey. "What's wrong, Jin? Scared of a little water?" She dared a playful look his direction before glancing purposefully towards the abandoned gate in hopes of keeping the conversation in safe territory.

When she glanced back, his grin held far too many unusually sharp teeth. "Can't have it messing up my hair now."

Takeda and Yamaguri shared a knowing look behind Mitsuki's back.

Grinning a little easier despite herself—because _maybe_ he'd always been a little charming in that funny way—Mitsuki tried again. "It looks like it's been a slow morning for the two of you."

"You have no idea," Kanta cut in, comically leaning against their small registration stand. His voice resonated deceptively light for someone who appeared so bland; a fact that never ceased to amuse her.

Jin simply shrugged, not paying Kanta any mind as he began running through the elaborate hand signs to let them through. Mitsuki knew it wouldn't be good to get caught staring at the jutsu to temporarily disable the security field protecting the village from invaders, but nothing could have made her happier. Normally, most people simply signed out and in upon coming and going from the village to monitor foot traffic. Should anyone ever slip past the guards, an invisible shield around the entire village recorded anything that passed. In order to truly leave the village without any record, Kanta would always temporarily lower the section around his post. Supposedly, it would look like a ripple on the monitoring field, a little blip hardly worth noticing.

Mitsuki counted on it.

All of them knew Mitsuki wasn't really allowed out without written permission, but they'd never saw any problems with what she did. Permits to bring in goods took too long to obtain. Right now, with the leaders of the village as busy as they were with more important things, neither one questioned anything after some calculated conversations to play them to her side. After all, Mitsuki brought the village food.

That jutsu held all of the power and safety of the village with it. She couldn't stop from peeking over from time to time, catching a hand sign every now and then. Jutsu had always been fascinating.

She didn't dare look towards Jin, knowing he was thinking of another way to pull her into a conversation.

"Alright," Kanta called. Everyone straightened as Kanta turned towards them all with a polite smile. "You're are all set to go. Try not to be out too late, yeah?"

Takeda stepped up, always ready to check her focus like the good boy he was. "Ready?"

"Of course!"

Glancing back, she waved only to see Jin smile warmly at her, holding promises of things she didn't want to dwell on. It was best not to think about it. As long as official record remained out of things nothing mattered.

After all, this was only a day job.

* * *

" _Wow!_ So this is the outside of the village!" Ryuuta gawked.

It didn't look any different from the inside besides the obvious fact that the wall stood behind them now. The thick forest stretched on as far as the eye could see around the wide path towards the green gate. No matter how many times Mitsuki brought them out here, something unpleasant slithered tight around her throat seeing her adopted children standing out on the main street towards the village, surrounded by the unknown territory.

The thrumming pulse came back behind her eye, squeezing and pushing all at once until her vision swam.

"Right." Sucking in a deep breath, Mitsuki started off into the woods. "Follow me." She didn't leave any room in her tone for disagreements—not out here where a single mistake could possible end something she had begun to appreciate again. Shooting a serious look over her shoulder, she pinned Yamaguri and Ryuuta both with a leveling glare. "And stay close."

"Yes, ma'am," Yamaguri muttered glumly.

Though it was dangerous, the woods had become peaceful since the Senju and Uchiha created an alliance and ended the most prominent and notorious war between clans. For centuries, the two demolished each other, fighting and killing until it became a habit and other clans formed alliances and treaties to remain out of it. Now that the battles ended, things were quiet.

Since then, the village spent the last month clearing out potential enemies and building a safe path for their civilian population to use in order to come to the village. Even though the Uchiha and Senju Clan's put aside their differences, some of their allies and other surrounding clans hadn't adopted the idea of a lasting peace.

Not everyone had caught wind of the new ceasefire yet. Every now and then, a few rogue shinobi passed through on guard for attack, expecting to find the Senju and Uchiha separate. Those were the dangerous ones, the suspicious ones. The tall thick trees of the Fire nation made great coverage, even in the earliest days of spring when the branches were still bare and ground stained with death. Mitsuki continuously turned her attention outwards, sensing the surroundings to make sure no one hid anywhere close. Rippling waves of awareness washed over all the trees and leaves, painting a vivid picture of every animal and creature within a killing radius.

Nothing.

Several minutes from the gate, Mitsuki stopped at a burnt maple tree splitting along the main trunk barely out of sight of the North gate. Ryuuta, who'd purposefully stuck right on her heels, smacked into her legs hard at the sudden stop, and for a second her nails carved into the bark at the irritated swell of pain in her head.

It faded fast. She looked down at him, but the bright blush staining his cheeks looked like enough of an embarrassment.

"Alright." Facing all of her children, Mitsuki looked them over. Takeda held the large wicker basket to his side while he pulled out his finished knife. Seeing Yamaguri had yet to finish his own knife, Mitsuki reached into the folds of her clothing for a kunai, passing it towards him without a word. "Takeda, Yamaguri, you know what to do."

They nodded, not offering up a wisecrack for a change.

Mitsuki took them all in carefully, making sure they recognized exactly what situation they were in, the same as every morning. "Be careful and keep your eyes open. If anyone runs into someone use the signal I taught you. Don't even try and approach them by yourself even if they look harmless. Understood?"

"Right," they chorused.

Ryuuta looked around confused. "Hey, what d'ya mean? What's goin' on? What are they supposed ta do?"

Looking down at Ryuuta, Mitsuki offered him a slight smile. Hopefully it looked more patient than it felt. "Yamaguri will be checking the traps to the east while Takeda goes to collect herbs and check the traps to the west." Mitsuki looked purposefully at Takeda and the boy nodded, silently promising to keep an eye open. Turning back to Ryuuta, she continued, "You're going to be coming with me to check the traps to the north." _Where I'll be close enough to get to everyone._

"What?" he cried out.

Sighing impatiently, she put her hand on his head, effectively silencing him for the moment. Now wasn't the time or place to be throwing a fit. He really was too young to go with them. Not fast enough. Not strong enough. Definitely not smart enough if something were to go happen and ninja or bandits or thieves or _slavers_ —

Sucking in a breath, she cleared her mind, slipping back into her mask and schooling her expression into something neutral. _He's only five. He doesn't know anything about the world yet._ The headache pressed tighter.

"This is what we do," Mitsuki explained slowly, not above intimidating him into realizing the situation. "People out here will cut your stomach open to see if they can trust you."

He gulped, staring at the woods in a different way.

 _Good_. Mitsuki slowly released him, once again concentrating out to check the forest around her. "Now, tell me what the signal is."

Takeda instantly spoke up, reciting it from memory. "It's a release of chakra that sends out a distress signal similar a beacon."

Nodding to herself, she looked towards Yamaguri to continue. He stared back blankly until Takeda gave him a nudge. "Oh! Right. Uh, we have to focus inside and agitate our chakra enough that it sends out a pulse like thing around us."

Not exactly. Concentrating inside the body let them access their chakra network. The more focus they used the more of a build-up their body would make, naturally condensing it and transforming it into useful energy. With enough agitation it would be like a beacon of light for anyone looking. While a surge of energy would release into the surroundings, it wouldn't necessarily be visible as a pulse.

The detail wasn't worth arguing over.

"That's right," she said. As long as she kept her senses open, she'd feel the moment they agitated their chakra and would be able to race over in a heartbeat. She looked at each of them individually, hoping to press on them the importance of the situation. They were so young. So young and jaded. "Remember, chakra comes from inside you. All you have to do is remember what I've taught all of you. Chakra is your very being. Calling upon it is as easy and simple as opening your hand; you don't have to force it."

"We know, we know. We do this every morning," Yamaguri muttered, shifting impatiently.

"We've got it," Takeda agreed.

Swallowing thickly, she took in another breath. "I know. Be careful, ok?"

Takeda nodded, offering a grin grins while Yamaguri simply turned around and started heading off towards the closest trap. Mitsuki stared after him, clomping noisily through the brush. _Too loud,_ her mind hissed.

Takeda quietly slipped off, heading further north towards the best openings Mitsuki showed him. Even with silent as he was, Mitsuki could see his tall head far too easily as he weaved between plants.

"Why can't I go and help check traps with Takeda or Yamaguri?" Ryuuta complained. Even though he stood next to her, it felt like he drifted far away. His words were only murmurs in the back of her consciousness.

Absentmindedly, she shushed him, once again ruffling his hair to make sure he stood there. Instantly he batted her hand away, but she hardly noticed.

Mitsuki stared after them as they took their separate paths deeper into the woods. Even though it was crucial for them to know how to protect themselves, her heart clenched picturing the dangers out there. Remembering the men that would take them and use them. Feeling the sting of hot metal burning and charring into flesh. The pain would never go away, too much, always too much—

Sucking in a breath, she let them go.

* * *

 **Translations/explanations:**

 _Onna -_ woman

 _Ohayou_ \- good morning (the u is silent, properly spelled)

 _-chan_ \- honorific tending to be more feminine, shows kinship or endearment towards a person

 _-kun_ \- honorific tending to be more masculine, shows kinship or endearment as well, not used to address superiors or between women

 _Kami_ \- god, but can sometimes more specifically be a divinity, spirit, or deity as well, for the record, **this does not mean a curse when actually said because 'God' in English comes from the taboo of saying the Lord's name in vein, but for the sake of the story, I'm using it.** Call it artistic license :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Warning:** Mild angst, hints of child abuse, memory manipulation, family relationships, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto's still not mine. Well kinda, but you know that ;)

 **Note:** We're still moving. There is more Tobirama in this chapter for those of you that missed him last time. It's also one of the last of the set-up arc, in a way. Only one more after this before everything's tumbling down like a landslide. Thanks for all of your reviews and follows. It's great knowing that a lot of people like the story!

Like before, translations and explanations are at the bottom, and a wonderful thanks to my fantastic beta, Dimigex. That woman does everything.

Updates every other Thursday evening, US time.

* * *

 **Catching Lightning In A Bottle**

 **Chapter 2**

People were everywhere, walking across decorated streets with incessant, bubbling chatter. Despite a slight chill in the wind, the day was bright, and something promising lingered in the air; people smiled easier and laughed a little louder. A more sentimental or superstitious person might have attributed the sensation tinkering in everyone's hearts as something akin to destiny.

Too bad Mitsuki had never been one of those people.

 _Sentimentality bred complacency, and complacency welcomed death._ The warning still rang painfully in her head from the years she overlooked it. Perhaps, if she'd been more careful, a little more diligent, a lot of people might still be alive.

"Sentiment is just a mawkish oversimplification of the world," she whispered reverently.

She would never make that mistake again.

Mitsuki walked along the main path, ignoring her throbbing headache with the joyous sounds of everyone around her, and marched towards the heart of the village with all the children following in various states of excitement or dread. Despite the warm joy lingering in the air and smile of every person they passed, Mitsuki fought despairingly to keep the lazy smile she usually wore so no one noticed anything amiss. Normally she wandered around the village earlier than this, children vanished to unknown corners of somewhere, and she was knee deep in building her cover story or finding an alternative means to get into the Tower through powerful friends. Seeing the sun nearly halfway up in the sky before Mitsuki accomplished something in town felt practically scandalous.

Her feet still absentmindedly slowed, prolonging the inevitable encounter. She needed a new plan. This—this _mess_ —was not going to work.

Today, Hashirama would be named Hokage in front of the entire village _. Everyone_ would be there. Including Tobirama, Madara, the head of village security, and over a hundred other ninja that could lock Mitsuki in a prison cell for the unseeable future without anyone lifting a finger to stop them.

The pounding voice behind her skull screeched at the thought, shoving against her temple and squeezing everything _out out out._

 _Kami_ , it hurt.

Mitsuki couldn't even _avoid_ this. Too many people expected to see her at the coronation. For someone intently interested in the village's future, skipping out would draw too many questions, innocent inquiries, and concerns that could capture the wrong person's attention. During the celebration, well, that was another story altogether. If anyone missed her face then, they would assume she went off mingling somewhere in the crowded streets. As long as people spotted her at the coronation, no one would question her vanishing during the celebration. Only because of that, Mitsuki found herself forcing smiles and trying to be the warm happy person everyone in the village believed her to be, calling out greetings and well wishes. If the incessant pain in her head wasn't so sharp, Mitsuki might have managed.

Not that anyone would ever notice it.

At least she'd put on a damn good show either way.

(It was amazing, really, how little people actually _saw_ around them. People didn't actually use their eyes to notice little details or oddities about others. No. Instead, they would much rather see what they wished to pretend the world spun on peacefully.

Like a genuine smile stretching up and reaching her eyes, instead of a grimace.

Or a happy family walking down the street, instead of a ragtag collection of broken bits called people.

They saw a loyal civilian working hard for this growing village.

People never looked at the world. They imagined it. Every crack, every blemish slipped past, unseen. And when everyone looked at Mitsuki with the same gut-wrenching trust and faith that she believed in this village, it definitely didn't bother her. These people didn't matter. They didn't _deserve_ to matter when they were as oblivious as they were.

She never felt that smoldering guilt burning away her insides each time another happy face turned her way.

Shadows always framed sunshine.)

Yuko shuffled along the dusty streets today, a miracle in itself. The short, moody blonde _never_ woke up for anything outside of watching people come into the village. It showed by the way she trudged at the back of the group, blearily rubbing her eyes and grumbling about anything remotely irritating. Even with a full breakfast and extra time to sleep in while Mitsuki dallied, everyone walked a few safe paces away. The girl was _grumpy._

"Why do we all have to come to this stupid thing again?" Yamaguri complained, forever uninclined to hide his feelings behind whispers. He looked to Takeda, walking alongside him, but the boy shrugged.

Glancing back at the indigo hot head, Mitsuki shifted the basket on her side and decided not to bring up his lackluster attitude. Yamaguri never held his tongue, and the Uchiha certainly didn't earn any of his love.

"Today's a special day Yama-kun," Mitsuki explained, with the most convincing smile her voice could offer. If the sun wasn't warm and the day beautiful for the beginning of spring it might have been harder to fake. "It's the coronation for the village's first Hokage. Everyone in the village is going to be there."

Yuko's head perked up, and her step faltered. " _Everyone_?" Mitsuki's smile cracked noticing the girl's hands clenched by her sides, trembling with emotion.

Only someone paying close attention could have caught the slight flinch.

Her headache intensified.

Thankfully, Mitsuki walked in front of everyone, so no one noticed that she closed her eyes for half a moment, sucking back everything that had dropped like tar in her stomach at the pleading _hope_. Glancing back at Yuko, Mitsuki took in the optimistic lift of the girl's delicate round chin, the way her arms raised up as if she held a dream close. A new light reached her eyes and everything was too much. The tar burned and sizzled inside.

Out of all of her children, Yuko remained the only one that held onto the hope of finding her parents again. The day Yuko came to the village, they were in the woods and something haunting happened she never talked about. Mitsuki found her sobbing in the middle of the street, inconsolable and alone. Even over a week later, Mitsuki saw her eyes drift towards all of the refugees in that same blistering expectation that scorched her insides; she still thought they would walk right through those village gates.

People didn't pay that much attention unless there was a need, a crying _need_ deep inside that one day the face they were searching for would appear. Mitsuki could only assume her parents were caught by bandits, robbed and murdered while Yuko snuck away with a few others. Either way, she still waited for them to stumble into the village.

The taste in the back of Mitsuki's throat lingered suspiciously like bile.

"Of course," Mitsuki replied as chipper as expected. It sounded a bit flat to her own ears, but when she glanced back none of the others noticed. Takeda met her gaze for a second, always watching a little too closely, but Mitsuki couldn't bear to see him wonder at her lie either. Instead she turned back around, turning down a side street to get there faster. "Everyone will want to see who the Hokage will be. It's a big moment. Maybe you'll even recognize people there."

It was cruel, but Mitsuki couldn't find the strength to tell her to give up hope. Lies always made things worse. They mangled beautiful things into mannequins dancing for the chance of freedom until the strings snapped. They fed misery.

But maybe, just maybe, Yuko's parents weren't dead.

"I thought people already knew that Hashirama is going to be named," Takeda called out. The change of topic couldn't have come at a better time.

 _They wouldn't know if he wasn't such a terrible gossip._

Waving her hand cheerfully, Mitsuki grinning. "Maa, maa, Takeda-kun. No one's supposed to know that yet. Hashirama only told people that so they could keep a secret."

"That doesn't make sense," Yuko muttered.

Yamaguri nodded in agreement. "This guy sounds like an idiot."

"You better get used to it, Yama-kun. He's going to be our idiot."

Merchant shops were already preparing for the large crowd of people after the ceremony finished and people had set out the various games to play along the streets. Paper lanterns and banners hung along every surface in brilliant colors, and kids were darting around with various toys and fans. As they entered the more developed part of the village, they could see dozens of faces most of the children had never met.

Yamaguri oblivious as always, cut in with spitting ferocity, "I bet those Uchiha _bastards_ are gonna be there. At least one of them ain't gonna be the leader of the village. If one of them so much as looks at me they're gonna get a fist to the face!"

Ryuuta, the only one without any self-preservation, snorted, "Ya can't do that. They bea' ya up last time Yama-kun."

" _What?_ They did not!"

The puzzled look on Ryuuta's face couldn't have come at a worse time. "Yea, they did."

Mitsuki sighed and slowed to a stop, not even glancing back as everyone froze.

"You wanna say that again, moron?"

Mitsuki smacked her hand on Yamaguri's head mid-tackle before anyone could blink, sending him crashing to the dirt on his stomach to stop him starting a full on brawl out in the middle of street. Her basket nearly tumbled from her grip, but a quick slid of her other arm saved it. Yuko ripped Ryuuta back in the same second, nearly sending toppling over his own two feet. Everyone skittered away as Yamaguri snarled and kicked on the ground, unable to move under Mitsuki's unyielding grip on his skull. She didn't bother pinning him down with her knee.

People stared, and a murmur broke over the suddenly quiet street. With her hair hiding her face, Mitsuki couldn't help but let out a sigh. They were _so close_.

Yamaguri withered and screeched like a demented kappa. "Lemme at him! He doesn't get to stay stuff like that! Lemme at him!"

Mitsuki's head already hurt _way_ too much to deal with this right now.

With a sigh, Mitsuki snatched Yamaguri's ear with the same hand that formerly held his indigo locks, and yanked him back to his feet. The boy yowled, drawing eyes with fat blubbery tears, but she bent down to show him her frown, daring him to make more of a racket.

Yamaguri bit his lip, both hands tugging to get Mitsuki to release her grip, but at least he stayed quiet. She hardly felt him pull away. "Now, _Yamaguri_."

He paused hearing his name; Mitsuki never called any of them by their actually name except Takeda. The last time she addressed them by their full name, Yuko tripped Yamaguri when he mocked the mean old store owner that hated all the kids around the village by a bonfire. Instead of falling harmlessly to the side, Yamaguri flopped, flailing his arms out and launching a burning twig right into Mitsuki's arm. The entire sleeve burnt off before she put it out, all four kids running around panicking.

A volcano would freeze under the icy glare Mitsuki leveled over him. Yamaguri shuddered, cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck, but he refused to cower. "You've gone and gotten yourself all dirty after I specifically told all of you that today was a special day. What will everyone think seeing you coming in looking like a pig, hm?"

Yamaguri glanced away as much as he could with her vicious grip on his ear. Wisely he didn't point out that it she got him dirty. It was too hard not to swallow his tongue, feeling her sizzling temper squeezing around him.

He knew better.

Mitsuki's gaze shifted towards the smallest nugget, half-hiding behind Yuko. "Now, _Ryuuta_."

Yuko immediately shoved the stunned little boy out from behind her. The redhead stumbled on his short pudgy legs and Ryuuta barely managed to catch himself before ramming face-first into Yamaguri's gut. Glumly, he looked up towards Mitsuki, water already in his big eyes. "Yea, Mi-chan?" he whispered.

Mitsuki didn't change her tone of voice, even as pity asked her to be a little nicer. She still sounded particularly threatening. "What do you say for getting Yamaguri all dirty for the big celebration today?"

"Sorry Yamaguri…"

Mitsuki glanced towards Yamaguri, still holding the boy carefully by the ear in case he decided to make another swing. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, scowling down at the ground, but she could still see the faint tremble every time her grip twitched. A quick tug lifted his head fast. "Yamaguri?" she prodded meaningfully.

"What?" he snapped, eyes locking with hers.

Inside, Mitsuki held back her frown. She pinched his ear tighter.

"Ow ow ow! Fine, whatever. _Ow_! You're forgiven! Now let me go!"

"Good."

Mitsuki obliged, turning back and starting to walk towards the center of the village like nothing happened at all. It took a second, but eventually the sound of footsteps fell in line behind her.

Mitsuki rolled her eyes, wondering how to handle today. Worrying about being discovered by a man who might be able to tell she was a ninja was one thing, but she didn't have the patience today to deal with Yamaguri's hatred of all Uchiha while stomaching Yuko's misery. Let alone deal with Ryuuta's perchance for trouble. The only one not driving a nail into her head was Takeda.

Well … Mitsuki glanced back at the unspoken angel that plagued every day with memories of precious things she'd never be able to get back.

At least he wasn't trying to do it on purpose.

* * *

On the other side of the village, Hashirama fretted nervously, pacing back and forth in front of the private sitting room of his _Shoin-zukuri_ style house, patting his clothing constantly to see if he had everything he needed.

It'd already been over a month since the founding of the village, a month since he and Madara started building their dream together after that life-changing day upon the battlefield. Though it was still small and much needed to be done, today marked the village's first day with an elected leader.

Hashirama couldn't forget anything this time. A speech of this size could change the hearts of hundreds, show countless people the light of the Will of Fire, and change everything. Heat rushed to his cheeks recalling the first time he'd ever had to address his own clan on as patriarch when he father passed. _That_ wasn't something he would ever be able to forget. Nor would his little brother ever let him live down. That was even in front of his own clan, people he'd grow up around since he was young and trained with for years. Not _days_ after they'd traveled to the Daimyo to tell him of the people's vote. And definitely not in front of a giant mass of civilians and ninja alike looking at him with insurmountable expectations and complete perfection.

If any of the other occupants in the house noticed Madara's pointed absence while his closest friend got ready, they didn't comment.

Mito sat by the open shoji doors in the warming springtime air overlooking the garden, calmly sipping tea and steadily ignoring her husbands panic down the hall. The sun had risen several hours ago now, but in all honesty, she hadn't been up long. Her handmaiden spent the entire morning preparing everything for her lady so Mito only had to roll out of bed and slip into a drawn bath.

Feeling much worse for wear, Tobirama leaned against the wall where he could clearly see the entire layout of the room, trying his best to seem as unassuming as possible. It was an ingrained habit to keep his back towards the wall, one he hardly noticed anymore. Though he'd never admit it to another soul, today it served mostly to keep him out of Mito's critical eye. No one ever stood behind him, especially not when his brother's wife sat five feet away, waiting for something to latch her attention to. Unlike Mito, he had no taste for sipping tea and twiddling his thumbs. If hiding against the wall kept her focus elsewhere, then that was no sweat off his back.

It didn't work. It never really did.

Mito glanced towards Tobirama under the ruse of looking towards the garden, and even he could see that she was trying to decide whether or not the reason he seemed fatigued was _because_ of Hashirama or not.

Thankfully Hashirama appeared before she could think of something to say, mumbling to himself about something suspiciously like a weapon and patting various parts of his body. Rather than his usual attire, he was already dressed in a long red robe, belted with a thick white sash and knee length white haori overtop, signature of his soon-to-be position. Tobirama didn't bother looking his way. No doubt the village would love him regardless if he wore a dress and played a koto, but Mito gave Hashirama an encouraging smile, inquiring, "Are you ready to go, dear?"

He paused, straightening like a lightning rod. Offering Mito an apologetic smile, he retreated, fleeing the room as he remembered something else.

By the third time he came in, Tobirama closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall with a slight thump.

"Brother, the other clans will not see it as a sign of war or weakness whether or not you choose to bring your sword to the ceremony. You're being ridiculous. The citizens already voted you to be Hokage." Tobirama half-heartedly tried to word it a way that wouldn't hurt his brother's sensitive feelings, but it'd been a long time since he bothered with such intricacies. If Hashirama couldn't handle criticism at the ripe age of twenty-one, it was his problem. Tobirama was a blunt, straightforward person, and always would be. Sugar-coating things was not exactly his forte.

The fidgeting stopped for the barest second. "That isn't the point, Tobi. This day marks the beginning of the village's future."

Risking a glancing in his brother's direction, Tobirama found Hashirama frowning disappointedly at him. Rolling his eyes, Tobirama tilted his head back against the wall to ignore the flare of irritation that made his fingers twitch. _There's still nearly forty minutes before we're truly late_ , he thought carefully. Plenty of time to get there.

No reason to kill him yet.

Even Mito was already dressed. For a woman, she'd never taken much time, but Tobirama remembered how long it'd taken his mother to dress in a formal junihitoe; it was twelve layers of fine silk, engraved by the finest craftsmen of the the Fire Nation, and dyed in vivid reds, oranges, and greens. Mito's fiery red hair was tied up into two buns using the decorative Kanzashi adorned with pearls and carved dragons that matched the wide cuffs of her outfit, extending up their length from the Uzumaki Clan crest, and her face was painted in a delicate warm palate that brought out her dark eyes. Getting ready should have taken her the longest mathematically - she did have the most clothes on really - but it didn't change Hashirama's perchance for indecisiveness. She looked every inch of the perfect wife of Konohagakure's first Hokage, pristine, and _ready to go._

None of them wanted to jinx it, but Mito was already nearly three cycles late. Tobirama wasn't ashamed to admit it was one of the main reasons he didn't want to be alone with her at the moment. Women were complicated enough when their hormones weren't fluctuating. Mito was downright terrifying. And particularly nosey. Tobirama chanced a glance over from the corner of his eye, still worried it might be a false pregnancy like the one before, but it was impossible to tell if there were twins or not since the small chakra nature hadn't distinguished itself into a singularity.

Mito looked at her husband as he came in _again_ with the same expression she'd used to bring down hundreds of enemies in battle. "Hashirama, you are ready."

Hashirama shifted, clearly torn between disagreeing and listening to his wife, the scroll in his hands halfway open and filled with scribbled notes and phrases for the announcement. Glancing towards his brother, he rubbed the back of his head apologetically. "Just a moment, dear. I'll just need to finish rereading this!" Without another word he vanished deeper into the house.

Allowing an immature moment, Tobirama sighed through his nose and opened his vermillion eyes to stare out the window with a bored look on his face.

A jolt of his energy pulsed through the air, too fine to be traced, reaching out like tendrils, exploring every surface and every living creature. Immediately, a contained whirlpool of chakra, spinning in place and tightly controlled, burst to the front of his senses. Mito's purple diamond seal upon her forehead sat like a cyclone trapped in a bottle, and behind her, the handmaiden's faint swirl of energy freely moving through her body was only a faint of blue in comparison. Hashirama's chakra rolled like molten lava, boiling and bright, with the light of the sun glowing over everything around him. Tobirama chose to ignore the tinge of anxiety.

Looking outwards, more people lit up, each different and shifting, energy bubbling within them. There were images of people—walking around the village, smiling, getting ready for the big moment, children scuffling with others playing, and young and old stretching to the outer gates of the village in the lingering taste of laughter—assaulting his senses in a chaotic overload. The entire world shifted in another dimension, filling things vividly and with a depth he'd begun seeing as second nature. Shifting through everything quickly, he relaxed, detecting no one remotely close that seemed to be of any harm.

His sensory skills were exemplary; he rarely even had to infuse chakra to sense those nearby, but today was a special day to be cautious. It hardly took any focus to pinpoint the chakra of a single person from halfway across the continent; not even a suspicious low level civilian could possibly escape his notice today. With someone who was able to transport nearly instantaneously across great distances breaking into village files, every little detail was important.

Another break in had been reported a few nights ago; meaning whoever managed to sneak by _him_ of all people was still at large. The coronation would be the perfect time to strike if Hashirama had been their goal. He'd personally gone over all guard shifts and patrols to make sure there were no blind spots and those with particularly acute sensing abilities were spaced evenly enough to give fair warning in case of an attack. Everything needed to run smoothly. Whether or not they used a reverse summons or simply a teleportation jutsu similar to his Thunder God technique, he would find them eventually.

Nothing would ruin today.

Content with the situation for now, Tobirama allowed his vision of sight to narrow into a more manageable flow of information. He opened his eyes, but only one thing changed in the room. Mito waited, staring with deceptively serene neutrality without Hashirama there to distract her. Sucking in a breath for a brief reassurance of strength, Tobirama cursed his luck.

Mito weighed her options before opening her mouth. "Did you ever catch the person at the tower?"

After Mito came into the tower several weeks ago to analyze whether or not the intruder had tampered with the jutsu, he'd hoped to gain some sort of sign of who it might have been. Instead, it raised more questions. The intruder had been able to pass completely through the barrier seal without tripping or altering any of the calligraphy. There were no signs of counter jutsu, no marks of brute force or trickery. How?

Even Mito wasn't sure, and she was a _master_ at fūinjutsu.

Tobirama eyed the handmaiden kneeling in the corner of the room closely, gauging his own answer. Only a select few knew about the situation in the village at the moment. With the person still at large, he'd rather not say anything else on the matter around those he couldn't completely trust. Though he had no doubts about Mito's handmaiden's skills in handling and caring for his brother's house, there would always be that paranoid voice in the back of his head telling him never to whisper about secrets.

For all anyone knew, the intruder could be sneaking in the lower vaults at their leisure. Despite Mito adding on a few other counter seals and restrictions to anyone who might pass through, it was impossible to know whether or not they were working.

"No," he settled on eventually, deciding to keep things as barebone as possible.

Mito hummed.

Normally, Tobirama loved talking with Mito. The woman was smart, cunning, and had an impressive amount of premonition that made her an excellent shogi opponent, even though she hadn't beaten him yet. If she didn't have than analytical look in her eye, Tobirama might have enjoyed the conversation. But, he knew exactly what she was going to ask, even before she opened her mouth.

"Have you begun speaking to any of the noblewomen around the village yet?"

The tension in the room immediately swallowed, pushing in like a viper and sucking out the air.

For a split second, Tobirama managed to seem indifferent, but he'd never really mastered the art of concealing his temper; with such a vicious one it wasn't hard to imagine why. The air crackled with chakra before he could stop it, and if she hadn't noticed, her sharp eyes couldn't overlook his flinch. Tobirama held her gaze, damning that insufferable Uchiha for putting him in this situation with every inch of creativity in his mind. Of course, _he_ didn't have to be here.

For a moment, Tobirama considered sharing his exact thoughts, but the breath wouldn't come out. His mother would have scolded him if she ever heard him speak ill of any woman no matter the situation, and the thought of her wrath—even if it was only a memory—was enough to make him carefully reconsider. "I have already met two of the noble women in the village."

Mito raised a delicate eyebrow, compelling him to continue.

He narrowed his eyes at her, fully aware of her plan. Glancing towards the handmaiden, Tobirama rethought his words. As competent as she was, he never could quite trust someone else with information of this delicate nature.

"They seemed a … credit to their studies, but I will wait until meeting all of them," he spoke carefully, hoping that would put the end to things without having to state his blatant disregard for the one's he'd met so far. He wasn't particularly impressed with either of the women he'd met with, recalling their diminutive stature and soft voices. "Both were … tolerable."

The truth was, Tobirama didn't want to talk about _any_ noblewoman in the village for one petulant and selfish reason.

"Brother!" Hashirama cried, and the tension fled from Tobirama's shoulders with the easy escape. He shot his brother an unimpressed at his frown, but didn't even try and fight when Hashirama clasped his shoulders in an affectionate squeeze. "Don't be so sour!"

Hashirama looked down at him from underneath the white kasa hat marked along the front point with the symbol for Hokage and somehow his smile seemed brighter with the inner red fabric hanging down over his shoulders. Tobirama cursed whatever god out there for being a few scant inches shorter than the oaf. If he sagged a little into his touch though, he promised himself it wasn't out of relief. "Yokkaku Sarutobi is quite the beautiful woman and Umenia Fuma is supposed to be rather lovely too," Hashirama grinned. Angling where his wife might not see, he shot his younger brother a conspiratory wink. "From the sounds of it Yokkaku is already rather fond of you~"

" _Darling_?"

Hashirama froze.

Tobirama smiled, glancing away before his irritated sister-in-law could catch sight of it.

Mito's teacup clanked lightly against the saucer as she gave her husband a warning look. "Are you ready to go?" With the sun streaming in behind her, shadows cast across her face that darkened her eyes dangerously.

Hashirama laughed uneasily, rubbing the back of his head. "You know no woman will ever be as beautiful as you," Hashirama soothed.

Kami, they were never going to get out of this damn house.

* * *

"Alright everyone!" Mitsuki called, pausing for Ryuuta to catch up in his little half jog. Takeda shifted the large pot he carried, his face beginning to show the strain of the weight and Mitsuki eyed his stance carefully before remembering she needed to keep talking. "Takeda and I are going to take the supplies into the hospital. Everyone else is free to go and do whatever you'd like. Try not to get into any trouble this time _Yamaguri, Ryuuta_. I don't need any more complaints."

"Yes ma'am," the two chorused. While Ryuuta had the decency to look a little ashamed under his long mop of dark hair, Yamaguri rolled his eyes. This was the third time this week they'd heard the same warning.

Mitsuki raised a knowing eyebrow in the most forewarning manner she could manage. "Go on. Find a spot where you can see. Meet back at the house tonight for dinner. Understood?"

As soon as she finished talking Yamaguri darted off, dodging between people with Ryuuta shouting feebly after them as he struggled to keep up, as always. "Hey! Wait up! Come on!" No doubt, Yamaguri would lead Ryuuta right into the face of trouble. Like always.

Pushing Yuko slightly in the back, Mitsuki tilted her head towards the moving crowd. "Go ahead and find something fun. There's plenty of games, alright?"

"Ok!" The bright smile that Yuko shot her before taking off stabbed into her heart. She raced off, cutting directly into the slight crowd of people starting to head towards the soon-to-be Hokage Tower for the coronation.

Hope was such an ugly thing.

Sobering, Mitsuki watched until she couldn't see Yuko bouncing between bodies anymore, wondering if she should talk to her about this. It wasn't healthy to hold onto things too long.

Mitsuki would know.

"Ready to head in, Mi-chan?" Takeda called to snap Mitsuki back from her thoughts. It'd been happening more often with all the new people in the village, but Takeda shrugged it off as stress. Awkwardly balancing the pot towards one side, Takeda held back the tent flap with his shoulder where it wouldn't knock off the lid in hopes that Mitsuki might remember the real reason for stopping here. His arms were starting to tremble from carrying the heavy load all the way into town.

"Oh," she murmured, coming back to the present with a sad smile. "Of course."

Mitsuki quickly ducked within the temporary healing tents with Takeda right on her heels. Immediately a simmering chaos hit Mitsuki in the side of the head, turning the slight pulse she'd been ignoring into a thrumming pound. A general noise pushed in from all around, some moans and groans, carts wheeling, voices giving orders and bustle cluttering. Mitsuki nearly raised a hand to press against the pain, but stopped herself in time. Sucking in a breath— _one, two, three_ —Mitsuki clenched her teeth against it before shoving the agony aside and letting it all out in one exhale.

A rather short stout woman with round cherry cheeks and her dark hair twisted into a professional bun came towards the front desk, nose buried in medical reports, vaguely asking the secretary for some information on a patient. Mitsuki sighed in relief.

"Isamu!"

* * *

 _One Month Ago_

Damn, it was cold.

Mitsuki shivered. Even from inside the tree overlooking the healing tents, the air was bitter enough that her hands were turning blue. Steam rose up from the cluster of tents protected by a sealing ward. It was the worst kind of taunt. Another pitiful breath swirled up with the stench of death as Mitsuki's teeth chattered uncontrollably.

The world twisted and Mitsuki's shoulder lurched awkwardly against the side of the tree. She let out a hiss as her cloak ripped at her wounded side. For a second her stomach turned. Up was down and—

 _Oh god,_ Mitsuki thought with a groan as her head thumped against the inside of the trunk.

A shape fuzzed, and Mitsuki blinked hard. A person. No, a woman. Squinting her eyes, Mitsuki stared, realizing it was that same plump woman with dark hair as before, the one that saved and healed refugees outside of camp.

Too long. She'd been staking out the temporary hospital for days.

Mitsuki stumbled, fighting the burning ache in her freezing joints to force her head out of the hiding hole. She barely glanced around to make sure people weren't looking before squeezing herself out of the dead tree she'd burrowed into.

The dirt path below was hard as she fell out, and her knees jolted, collapsing underneath her. Whimpering, Mitsuki held back a curse, biting her lip hard enough to bleed.

She took five seconds. Five seconds to get back the feeling and shove aside the pain to shove back onto her feet.

 _Damn._

Tears welled in her eyes.

The blood tasted cold and bitter, and for a second, it felt too much.

Then, with a groan, she was up.

Even bleeding and infected, Mitsuki managed to stumble through the white tarp. Her skin _burned_ it was so hot inside. Mitsuki's bones boiled and for a second her vision faded.

The bleeding was back.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

 _Miss?_

"Do you need help? What happened?"

Mitsuki's head lulled up and the woman in front of her froze, eyes unfocusing, but it was already too late. Her hands dropped out of the ram sign. The genjutsu was already set.

With a grimace Mitsuki limped past the frozen nurse and right by the other two nurses who'd looked up from filing paperwork. The woman furthest back—Isamu, the others called her— stood frozen like the rest and even with her hand pressed against her side, Mitsuki felt the blood dribbling down her leg as her side burned too hot. There was no way infection hadn't set in. With a quick glance, Mitsuki saw the yellow puss pushing between her frozen fingers and flinched.

Mitsuki stumbled through the proper hand signs a second time and the chakra drain almost took her to her knees. Panting, Mitsuki ordered, "T-Ta-Take me to a pri-private room. You w- _will_ heal me."

The woman straightened as the others remained frozen, her plump cheeks falling into a blank expression as the order and illusion sunk in. With the chakra flickering into her system, Mitsuki's sunken cheeks filled before her eyes and the tendons of her neck melted back into a healthy facade. The chakra spread with a warm tingle, taking over every nervous relay and optical sensors. In a split second, everything was complete, and only Mitsuki knew any better as all of the medical ninja blinked back to consciousness.

Isamu smiled, realizing another desperate patient hoping for another chance stood in front of her, leaning heavily on one side. Her medical eyes flickered quickly over the wound. Deep. Infected by the looks of things, but not untreatable as long as it wasn't too late.

"Of course," she spoke before realizing what exactly she said.

Mitsuki flinched, taking half a step closer before the burning and pain finally took her down to her knees. Isamu stepped up, catching her easily. Mitsuki's bones jarred on impact, but Isamu's expression never wavered even as her hand passed over the prominent bones and sickly physique.

Her smile was beaming.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

* * *

 _Present Day  
_

The moment Isamu turned, a giant smile spread across her plump lips, lifting her cheery cheeks until her eyes crinkled. "Ohayou, Mitsuki-sama!"

Mitsuki rolled her eyes, cautiously stepping towards her so she wouldn't get any ideas about hugs or other touchy greetings. Isamu loved random overt displays of affection. It was the one thing Mitsuki's physique didn't allow. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Mitsuki? Don't be so formal, Isamu. You see me every day," Mitsuki grinned.

There was something ghastly about honorifics or titles. Of course, there were times and places, but maybe it came from growing up able to run around and play as she pleased. Titles sat sour in the back of her throat, reminding Mitsuki of faces and times she'd rather forget. Even though Mitsuki was a woman, she'd never allowed herself to be dictated by the gender rolls declaring her to be the meeker and more delicate sex. Adhering to titles was no different.

Isamu quickly turned away from the paperwork she'd been reading with a slight tinge of pink to her cheeks. She'd worked in the hospital nearly as long as the temporary tents had been put up, toiling daily to get everyone back up on their feet, and if the slight limp in her right heel was anything to go by the woman had been on her feet even longer than the founding of the village. However, none of that stopped the cheery smile on Mitsuki's face as she realized that, as always, she suggested something Isamu simply could not bring herself to do.

There wasn't any real sway in Isamu's disapproving frown, and Mitsuki grinned to let her know it. "But you do so much for us here!" Isamu protested. "You can't expect me to disregard all of that. You must run yourself ragged all of the time!"

Sucking in a sharp breath, Mitsuki stole a glance in the reflective shine of a metal gurney passing by, checking her reflection. She'd always been so careful to hide the scars of her insomnia and the frequent headaches it brought. Every morning Mitsuki made sure everything looked perfect, that no one could see. _Is it showing? Does she know?_

The skin that stared back looked the same fleshy tone Mitsuki painted it this morning. A little angular, but passable as a healthy pointed face.

 _Good._

It was a well-intended mothering comment.

Suddenly Mitsuki could breath easier, realizing she was being paranoid. The headache, the one that she could never really get to go away, pushed to the back of her mind lashed out, reminding her of how _tired_ she really felt. How heavy her bones were. How weary her soul felt.

Her brain pulsed, squeezing tighter and tighter.

"Maybe you should take a break and get some more rest," Isamu continued, not even noticing the brief panic that struck Mitsuki's heart despite knowing Isamu wasn't aware of her secret. Mitsuki couldn't help but smile in dark humor. "You don't have to bring us food and herbs all of the time."

Lie.

Both of them knew the hospital was seriously understaffed and under supplied at the moment. With the village as busy as it was, they wouldn't be able to spare extra ninja to go outside the village walls to collect herbs and other things. The more people that came in, the more stressed the temporary hospital was for volunteers and materials. Ever since the first night Mitsuki broke into the tower, she'd been confiscating all of the hospitals requests for herbal materials to bring herself; having a medical ninja on her side might save her life one of these days.

Mitsuki couldn't exactly tell anyone why she wanted it to be that way. She _needed_ the trust and lax attention like an alligator lying motionless on the bottom of a lake, waiting until the fish swam into its jaws. Until the perfect moment, she twisted and squirmed like bait, drawing everyone closer and closer until it was too late.

Snorting to herself, Mitsuki wondered what else she could _legally_ do during the day. If Isamu knew of everything else she did, she might not be so honoring in her titles. For a moment, a comment was hot on her tongue about the gash on her side, but at the last second she caught herself.

Isamu wouldn't remember any of that. She'd made sure of it.

"And miss the chance to see your lovely face every morning?" Mitsuki teased instead with an exaggerated wink.

Unlike several other people in the village, Isamu waved away the flirt for the empty comment it was. "You know you should really pay those compliments to someone who might actually—" Cutting off, Isamu finally glanced over Mitsuki's shoulder to see Takeda nearly purple in the face from the weight of the step pot he clutched to his chest. "Oh, dear! Ohayou Takeda-kun. I'm so sorry; I didn't see you there! Can you please set that on the table in the next tent? Just there? Yes, that's the spot. Thank you."

The heat from Isamu's glare could have made a lesser man wither. Mitsuki's eyes twinkled and she shrugged, smiling innocently.

He'd held out longer than she thought.

"That boy is far too good to you sometimes," Isamu muttered.

The two turned to watch Takeda talk to one of the other nurses. With a smile he leaned up to grab something off a temporary shelf that the woman needed. Mitsuki's smile softened. From behind it was still easy to mistake the muddy brown hair and sun-kissed skin. Sometimes she still saw flashes of another boy in his place, someone much dearer to her heart, but as Takeda glanced towards her after feeling her gaze, nothing was farther from the truth. They were far too similar.

It was painful.

"I know," she murmured.

Isamu considered Mitsuki closely for a moment. Mitsuki pretended not to notice, she really did, but the ugly feeling of exposure peeled off her skin in a way she never wanted to be seen again.

"You know," Isamu began. She paused as Mitsuki's eyes flickered over and for a fleeting moment, Mitsuki wondered what Isamu saw in them. "You don't have to be so alone."

Mitsuki guffawed, pitching back and letting the laughter roll through her in the only way she knew how, drawing strange stares from all around. For a second, it felt almost possible to ignore all of the dark miserable things deep inside.

She could almost pretend Isamu wasn't looking at her with those damn big eyes.

Even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, Mitsuki forced her face in the fond smile that held every lie she'd ever told, and she softly bumped Isamu's hip with her own. "That's why I've got you, right?"

There was a beat, then, Isamu smiled, falling for it like she did every single time.

Damn, that hurt.

"Sorry," Takeda began when he came over, but Mitsuki didn't even let him finish. All of the sudden her throat was too tight and the air felt thin. She nearly ripped him towards the tent flaps with a lame excuse tumbling out of her mouth about being late. Isamu watched fondly, and Mitsuki forced herself to meet the woman's eyes. "We best be going now! I'll be back to pick up the basket and pot later, ok?"

"Of course," Isamu smiled. She bowed much too respectfully at the waist, leaving a strange twist in Mitsuki's chest, and she couldn't shove Takeda out of the tents fast enough. "Thank you again for the herbs and stew, Mitsuki-sama."

The rolling sensation definitely didn't feel anything like guilt.

* * *

 **Translations/Explanations:**

 _Shoin-zukuri -_ this is a style of house that is used as the basis of traditional Japanese architecture today. Used to be used for military or temple halls. Tatami mats, open rooms, central gardens and the like.

 _junihitoe_ \- extremely elegant and highly complex kimono that was only worn by court-ladies; literary means 'twelve-layer robe' and is commonly very heavy

 _fūinjutsu_ \- bossy type of jutsu that seal objects, living beings, chakra, and other things within another object; also be used to restrict movement or unseal objects either from within something or someone


	4. Chapter 3

**Warning:** Manipulation, memory angst, mild romance, mini breakdown, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto's still not mine. Well kinda, but you know that ;)

 **Note:** So. I haven't died. I've actually been moving into a new house and living without internet or my computer for a while. Sorry for the missed update, but to make it up, I'm posting this and another chapter on Thursday to get back onto the normal schedule. No worries, I have a lot written out and planned for you, my lovelies. This is also the last of the little set-up arc that I have so after this point everything with start to really get rolling ;)

Thanks so much for all of your favorites and follows. It's nice seeing so many people like the story! Leave me a review and let me know what you think.

Like before, translations and explanations are at the bottom, and a wonderful thanks to my fantastic beta, Dimigex. That woman does everything.

Updates every other Thursday evening, US time.

* * *

 **Catching Lightning In A Bottle**

 **Chapter 3**

A petite Uchiha woman stood towards the middle of the street, spinning around with searching onyx eyes as hair curtained down her back like a waterfall. With everyone pushing closer towards the stage where the announcement would take place, Mitsuki knew the woman couldn't see her. For a second she paused to watch her turn around, taking in how her raven hair twirled, and the worried look as she politely smiled at anyone making eye contact. No one quite had Keiko's fretting habits.

Finally, Mitsuki stepped up behind her, steps nearly silent on the ground out of habit more than necessity. She leaned up on her tiptoes until she could plop her head on the woman's shoulder. "You're gonna get burnt standing in the middle of the sun, Keiko."

Keiko squealed.

It was amazing; even in the heat of her emotions Keiko's voice never _really_ rose: the mark of a true lady, and a fact that never ceased to amuse her. She pulled back as Keiko jumped, then whirled around, red faced and furious. Mitsuki laughed, letting the feeling wash away all of her previous regret.

Keiko Uchiha couldn't be older than sixteen, and she'd been nothing less than a loyal friend since the two bumped into each other while Mitsuki delivered game to various stores. While they're meeting wasn't by chance, it was easy to admit Keiko turned into more than an advantage play to get closer to Madara.

Looking over at her now, Mitsuki grinned at her flushed face and withering glare. With a hand pressed to her chest in surprise, the look hardly inspired terror. Keiko was positively mortified in the most disgruntled way; whether it lingered from the shrieking in a crowd or Mitsuki startling her, it was hard to tell. She'd been raised strictly with the idea that if a woman were to complain, it was behind closed doors to her husband. Any out of place attention was bad attention.

"Where in the world did you come from?" Keiko hissed, glancing around quickly to see if anyone was looking over.

 _Definitely the crowd then_ , Mitsuki decided. "Maa, maa, is that anyway to greet a friend?" Mitsuki cooed with a dismissive wave. By now it felt easy to slip into the fake cheer, and Keiko was far too polite to ever call her on it.

Keiko's fair face glowed bright red. "I mean it. One day I'm going to accidentally step on you or something."

That threat was impossibly cute in too many unmentionable ways. It was also very likely, the nicest consequence possible at this point.

"I called your name," Mitsuki offered unconvincingly.

Keiko sighed, shooting her a look that clearly stated she didn't believe her, and Mitsuki simply smiled, showing teeth. Before she could come up with another protest, Mitsuki grabbed her by the elbow and steered her further into the crowd of bodies, and continued, "Happy to see me?"

Unable to help herself, Keiko giggled. It was such a soft and girly sound, nothing like Mitsuki's own laugh. Keiko represented everything Mitsuki never could be, a lot like—

Her steps faltered, and Mitsuki blinked, offered a slight shrug at the curious glance, and tried to continue even though the motions felt mechanical and fake.

"I guess," Keiko offered, and her smile was lovely enough for Mitsuki to stare for a second, refocusing her thoughts. "I'm surprised that you decided to come. I thought that you had some business outside the village."

Right. That lie.

Originally, Mitsuki wasn't going to come Hashirama's inauguration. Instead, she'd invented a tale about having to help a few farmers in a town close to the village since she'd spent the last month avoiding the head's of each respective clan with a passion, determined to remain undetected. While rumors and drawings gave Mitsuki the advantage of facial recognition, overall she had done rather well to avoid the Senju Brothers. Madara was a different story altogether considering Mitsuki planned to use him as a distraction. However, at least with Hashirama and Tobirama, everyone around stopped to offer a respectful greeting every time one of them walked down the street. It made avoiding them simpler. It wasn't until Mitsuki realized that people would notice her absence from the coronation that she changed her mind, regretfully.

Thankfully in a crowd of this size, even if Tobirama did mold his chakra it would be hard, if not impossible, to distinguish a foreign chakra from all the other shinobi. Since most sensor ninja saw chakra as collective energy locations, as long as Mitsuki stayed with the crowd, no one would be able to tell any difference at all. Every ninja off patrol was here. This would be her best chance to see them and get away unscathed while fulfilling everyone's expectation of seeing her here.

Realizing she'd waited a beat too long to respond, Mitsuki fell back into the same teasing tone she used to get out of everything. "I knew it," Mitsuki grinned, egging Keiko on to fluster the girl. "You _did_ miss me, Keikei-tan." Reaching up, she ruffled Keiko's hair like a child and smiled unoffended when Keiko batted her hand away with a squeak.

Keiko, a lovely shade of pink, went to poke her. "It's not like that! And I told you not to call me that!"

Keiko was too soft and innocent to ever face the struggles of a kunoichi, but if Mitsuki had her way, Keiko would learn how to pick the battles to defend herself somewhere outside the battlefield. Tradition meant nothing to a trampled flower.

Dissolving into a fit of giggles, Mitsuki turned and vanished, slipping through people as easily as water while her friend attempted to follow, politely excusing herself and apologizing to each person she bumped. Most people smiled, others shifted awkwardly out of the way. The entire crowd seemed to move and recoil, parting slowly to let Keiko through as everyone turned to see who caused such a racket. Mitsuki sat back and watched, dancing around people to always stay close, but just out of sight, taunting whenever Keiko seemed ready to pout and give in.

Eventually taking pity on her, Mitsuki appeared behind her, dancing through the bodies like the wind. Leaning in close, she whispered, "Now, now, _Keikei-tan_ , if I didn't know better I'd say you were upset with me."

Keiko jumped in her skin, whipping around and glaring at her laughing friend. " _How_ do you keep _doing_ that?" Keiko squeaked. Mitsuki smiled unabashed, and she sighed, arms drooping at her sides in defeat. "Never mind. You're going to give people the wrong impression calling me that! I'm not a baby."

"I wouldn't do that," Mitsuki grinned unconvincingly, but ducked quickly away when Keiko went in for another poke.

" _Please._ People are staring."

Rolling her eyes, Mitsuki conceded. People actually were looking, quite boldly too. It would hardly be enough to feed the veracious gossip mills, but Keiko wouldn't appreciate the comment as much as Mitsuki would love pointing it out. At least, everyone around the village would know that Mitsuki came now. "Fine. Fine. You win," she offered instead, unwilling to check her smile.

Keiko's shoulders dropped as the tension fled her body. But from the quick glance she shot over towards Mitsuki when she thought she wasn't looking, it was apparent she didn't trust her not to antagonize her anymore. Rightfully so.

"I'm surprised you're not with Jin. When I couldn't find you, I was sure you two would be together." The sly glance from the corner of Keiko's eye was too obvious for anyone with half a brain to miss.

Mitsuki pulled a face, tasting vinegar. Implications were stupid and annoying, and far too much of a hassle. Still, she only narrowed her eyes – because if she rolled them anymore they were definitely going to fall right out of her head.

Curse everything sideways; she couldn't deny anything without cementing it as the undisputable truth. "That lug? He's probably fast asleep right now."

"But today's the Hokage's inauguration! Everyone is going to be here." Keiko clutched at her sleeve as if Mitsuki could make the creepy giant appear. "He can't miss this! It's important!"

"You forget he's up all night." Mitsuki flinched the moment the words slipped out. Jin's sharp tooth grin was practically visible in her head, but thankfully Keiko was too precious and innocent to catch the implications.

With a sigh, Keiko nodded reluctantly. "I still think it's sad not to come. This is the beginning of our future!"

Mitsuki hummed noncommittally.

As many times as Mitsuki had heard those words, she couldn't help but stare at her friend. There was no doubt, no lingering bitterness, no hesitation: Keiko's face radiated hope. Several years ago, Keiko's determination and faith in the village starting peace might have played on Mitsuki's heartstrings, struck too many notes Mitsuki cherished. Now, a shallow ache twisted something wholly fragile and untouched deep inside.

Everyone here put all of their cards on the table. It was a sad fact, easily overlooked: this village wasn't simply homes for them. It represented the chance for peace and honesty, to finally shed away the horror of blood and battles, a chance for a better future. All of the hope everyone put into building this place from the ground came from the man preparing to walk onto the stage soon.

Hashirama changed _everything_.

Mitsuki swallowed thickly, refusing to remember the _feelings_ and _smiles_ and _dreams_ that echoed a little too close to home, and instead turned towards the stage so her friend couldn't see how duplicitous she'd become.

"It's definitely a moment history will remember," Mitsuki offered. There wasn't anything else to say.

* * *

"Oof!"

With a flail, Keiko tumbled into Mitsuki's back. If Mitsuki's footing wasn't strong, they both would have ended up toppling helplessly into someone else. Confused, Mitsuki looked over her shoulder, but Keiko seemed just as lost and apologetic.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" a deep voice apologized from behind. Mitsuki couldn't find the owner until a second passed, her gaze flickered down looking for someone short, like her, and she realized the man bowed remorsefully.

He offered another quick bow with dark swept up hair and two light, warm eyes that Keiko watched tremble before righting himself. From his forehead protector he was clearly a Senju ninja, despite donning the standard blue samue all ninjas wore. The double sided, two prong design with a short bar separating them in the middle was iconic, though probably considered outdated considering the village would probably have created a united symbol to demonstrate their status once a name was announced.

Studying him closer, Mitsuki realized his sun kissed skin and strange bandages covering his hands were familiar. He worked down on the construction detail she worked with time to time when she went hunting for information, building up more housing sections.

"No, no," Keiko quickly said. A faint blush colored her cheeks and her arms quickly folded in front of her chest awkwardly. "It's ok. Don't worry about it."

Frowning slightly, the man gave another apologetic bow. "Still, I apologize. I should have been paying more attention."

Before Mitsuki could turn back around and dismiss the man, she caught a tentative smile on Keiko's face that definitely hadn't been there before. Towards a man. In fact, if she wasn't shorter than her younger friend, Mitsuki might have missed it altogether.

"Really," Keiko insisted, smiling sweetly and shifting her weight. The natural curve of her neck accentuated as she shyly brushed her long pin-straight hair away from her face. "It's no trouble at all."

Mitsuki blinked.

 _Ohh._

Mitsuki stepped forward grinning widely, drawing both of their gazes down towards her, and the realization struck Keiko with a face of horror. Noboru's eyes took her friend in again before turning to her, and Mitsuki's smile almost become something maniacal. "I'm sorry, but I can't help but feel like we've met before."

The man blinked before returning her smile. "Yes, I remember. We worked on a house together a few days back. How could I forget? You brought the best stew. I'm Noboru Senju."

Taking his offered hand, Mitsuki nodded. "Mitsuki Kenshin." Despite the bandages his hand felt warm and firm in her grip. The wrappings were probably more aesthetic, than required.

Smoothly, Mitsuki turned towards her friend, shooting her a stealthy wink once she knew Noboru wouldn't notice. Keiko almost melted into a puddle of embarrassment, cheeks flaming crimson. "This is Keiko Uchiha, a close friend of mine. We run a flower shop together just down the street that way."

"Really?" He glanced down towards Mitsuki's suddenly mute friend and smiled, bright and easy. The lopsided curve of his lips pulled back, giving him a charming dimple on his otherwise handsome, but plain face. Mitsuki watched the heat dust down Keiko's neck. It wasn't hard to miss how Noboru's eyes lingered longer on her than typically polite. Mitsuki easily angled back towards the stage to give them a more private allusion as he shifted the conversation to Keiko. "Then you two must know the meaning of all of the different flowers."

"Well, y-yes, I suppose so."

Before the effort could die, Mitsuki stepped in with all of her easy charm.

Keiko needed the help.

Mitsuki forced the laugh. Somehow it came out as loud and awkward as usual, perhaps too much for the moment, but it did the trick. Noboru shifted towards her and Keiko startled out of the fluttering fog she'd vanished into. "Well, Keiko does. She's amazing with all of it," Mitsuki began. "There's so much that I'm learning from her." The lie fell easily, but before Keiko could cut in, Mitsuki turned to stare purposefully. "She's really the one to talk to about all of that. I only lend a helping hand whenever I'm needed."

Noboru raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Is that so?"

Taking the bait, Keiko blurted, "That isn't true!" Heat tinted her cheeks in an adorable flush against her pale skin as Noboru's eyebrow nearly vanished underneath his bangs, and Mitsuki mimicked him as painfully as possible. Keiko persevered marvelously regardless. "D-Don't let Mitsuki fool you. She's every bit as knowledgeable as I am. Really, _I'm_ the lucky one to have met her in the village when I did."

"Then you've only moved to the village recently?"

Stealthily slipping from the conversation again, Mitsuki turned back towards the stage to give Noboru all the room he needed to step closer to give Keiko his full attention, sure to keep an ear open for any hitches Mitsuki might need to smooth out. Things quickly eased as the two chatted over anything that came up, including their excitement over the announcement.

Mitsuki tried hard not to grin triumphantly, but if anyone happened to look over and see her strange giant smile they didn't say anything.

* * *

The coronation began with faint music quieting the crowd from somewhere Mitsuki couldn't see. Sensing the shift, the murmurs through the crowd quieted as several people walked up on stage. Mitsuki craned her neck to get a good view.

Three people stepped onto the platform, followed by none other than Toka who stepped in front to address the crowd. The intricate chocolate topknot gave her away anywhere, and upon closer inspection Mitsuki made out her standard unisex armor and customary dark red lipstick. All were trademarks of the stoic woman. Mitsuki had never met her personally, but from what she'd heard from the others around the village, she was a _beast_ in battle.

"Thank you for coming today to celebrate the dawning of a new era," the woman began, her voice oddly gravelly. Dead silence answered her, but energy buzzed through the crowd. "Today, representatives from both the Uchiha and Senju clans are here to support the choice of the village in picking a leader to guide us through these times of peace."

Keiko leaned closer, slipping her hand into Mitsuki's and giving it an excited squeeze. Giggling, she whispered, "It's finally happening!"

Mitsuki couldn't help but return the gesture, adding her own smile.

"Tobirama Senju," Toka introduced, gesturing towards her left where the man in question stood, already known by all.

The crowd burst out in cheers for their living legend.

Tobirama's white hair glistened in the sun like liquid silver, as bright as the fur lining his armor. If he wasn't wearing the blue armor and dark fabric underneath, he would have appeared rather plain, Mitsuki realized. Light hair over light skin. As everyone clapped, Mitsuki ducked around arms to realize he wore a happuri in place of the traditional forehead protector. It made his face shine in the light, washing out his coloring more. This far away, it was hard to make out anything else. He was as blank as the pages his name represented.

No one in the world was supposed to be faster, not even the great ninja of the Land of Lightning, renown for their speed. The rumors that spread across the lands said his face cracked with the unbelievable speed he traveled. They rang in Mitsuki's ear, but it was too far to see the truth.

Hard to believe that man was the root of most of her problems. Mitsuki figured she'd be able to weasel her way out of Hashirama's bad graces with some luck since everyone spoke about how kind he was, but Tobirama was a different beast.

Lifting her arm to her right, Toka continued once the cheering quieted. "Madara Uchiha."

Again, the crowd roared, clapping and shouting out for the eerily dark man who lifted his chin further at the mention of his name.

Mitsuki met Madara around the village a few times before, mainly inside the Uchiha compound when he tried scaring her out of the Fire Nation for visiting Keiko. It couldn't compare to seeing the man standing above the crowd in his traditional battle armor. Contrasting Tobirama, his plating was blood red, and his dark, black mane was unmistakably long and messy, falling down his mid-back on top of sinfully pale skin, common to the Uchiha's. His entire body comprised of sharp contrasts.

An orange and brown gunbai with a red tomoe sat on his back, large and menacing. Mitsuki stared, taking it in more than the man. A black chain ran up the length to connect to his large kama, the glistening black sickle, glorious in the promise of pain. Mitsuki chest tightened in anticipation, her fingers twitching to look at it closer.

Usually gunbai were carved from a unique spirit tree. They were rare, even among the clans, and in the few times she'd managed to hunt one down, they were passed through generations as a weapon for the strongest clan member. By the looks of this one, it was particularly deadly. Mitsuki gulped down the urge to run her fingers over every inch.

 _What a weapon_ , Mitsuki purred, and the crowd faded out in the back of her mind.

If she'd known Madara possessed such a gem, Mitsuki would have spent more time softening the creepy man to her presence. Even if she could touch it once, _kami_ , Mitsuki couldn't even imagine…

Whether on purpose or not, Keiko's elbow clipped Mitsuki's upper arm, pulling her back to Toka's words with a painful flinch, and she realized she'd been staring. "—wanted to allow the people to form their own path. Which is why I now have the honor to present the village's first Hokage, Hashirama Senju!"

Immediately the crowd burst with energy, throwing up fists and clapping for their elected leader. In the sudden buzz of motion, the crowd jostled Mitsuki, forcing her to moving with the tide in order to find another head hole to see the Hokage.

 _The Fire Shadow?_ Mitsuki thought with a wiry smile. An odd title to pick for the leader of the people; fire was inherent in this nation, but shadow … Shadows represented how people projected negative aspects on others, how light was blocked out and darkness blinded everyone in webs of lies.

Flames didn't cast shadows.

 _Interesting._

A little more curious, Mitsuki angled to see over the heads blocking her view. Hashirama wore a long red robe, belted with a thick white sash and knee length white haori overtop. A white neckpiece covered his upper chest and on top of everything he wore a white lined red hat. Only the front corner was white with the strange symbol for Fire Shadow, written in bold, open tipped strokes. Craning her head to the left she found Hashirama in time to see him smile and wave out towards the crowd.

A woman nestled on his arm.

Hashirama was supposedly married, but Mitsuki had never caught sight of anyone with the title. If the woman did exist, she definitely hadn't been out in the village at all, but the image they presented together left little other option. Why a man would hide his wife, Mitsuki couldn't guess, but he must have been.

Squinting to get a better look, Mitsuki realized that, _yes_ , the woman's hair really was _red,_ pinned up into two intricate buns on either side of her head and adorned with pearls. Tags hung down from her hair, but from out in the crowd it was impossible to read the stylized script, even when Mitsuki craned up onto her tiptoes and nearly wedge her face between the men's shoulders in front of her.

They were probably Kanzashi. Mitsuki would bet her right arm on it. No woman of any sense of importance ever went around without at least two hidden blades on her. Of course, there were dozens of places to hide them along her person as well, especially in her traditional junihitoe. The layers of silk were heavy enough most people wouldn't notice the weight of a blade if they picked her up, let alone be able to tell where it was hidden. It was clearly of the finest quality, decorated intricately with either cranes or dragons, made along the eastern shore judging by the vivid red dye.

Mitsuki couldn't place the woman. Neither Senju's or Uchiha's had red hair like that; it looked so vivid, Mitsuki had never quite seen anything like it before, not even on Ryuuta. At least, not that she recalled.

Something faint tingled in the back of her mind, telling her she'd seen at least one other person with hair as red as hers. _But where?_

Mitsuki frowned, vowing to look into that more when she had some free time.

 _If_ she ever had free time.

"Thank you all for coming here today," Hashirama began, and for a moment, the sight of the crowd almost seemed to overwhelm him. The woman at his side smiled, her painted lips full and easy to see, even from Mitsuki's vantage point. "Seeing everyone here, united under one village fills my heart with joy. As your Hokage, I swear everything in my power to protect and serve all of you. No one in the history of the Elemental Nations has ever created something like this village. Welcome to Konohagakure!"

The crowd let out a roar, hearing their village name for the first time. The sound was deafening. Keiko cheered, and Mitsuki was painfully aware of Noboru's hands clapping a few inches behind her head.

The Village Hidden in the Leaves. Not really the fear invoking or metaphorical name that most people would have chosen.

Mitsuki sharpened, hand dropping towards her sleeve out of habit when the crowd unexpectedly roared. Her ears rang, and pain shot through her head, but a quick glance confirmed that no one saw her nearly incriminating motion. Perhaps the blood pounding in her ears hurt the most.

Obviously she'd missed something, but Mitsuki smiled, letting the easy feelings in the air carry away her worry as she joined in cheering for the man now in charge of them all. Keiko stepped up next to her again, face split in a grin, looking towards the man who made all of this possible.

As the crowd shifted in cheers, Mitsuki just made out the large tan tarp that had previously been covering the mountain face fluttering down to the ground.

The rumor was true.

All five of them stood proudly in front of the mountain face depicting Hashirama's large head towering up above. It looked _giant_. Incredibly realistic, and the crowd roared it's approval and support. The banners along the side of stage, held by a bearer changed as well, a new design rolling out, strikingly similar to the Uzumaki swirl. Instead, there was a small triangle at the lower left hand side and a dash going out of the spiral, turning it into something resembling a leaf. Together the five standing up there were quite the sight. It stirred something else Mitsuki thought she'd long since forgotten and she wasn't even sure if she could even place the feeling.

It was the first sign that this mission wasn't really a doomed failure after all. That swirl … Mitsuki stared, watching the banners dance as the unknowns woman's hair came to mind.

Without knowing what else to do, Mitsuki laughed.

"I told you you'd have fun!" Keiko shouted towards her over the noise.

The laughter spread, infecting her deeper until tears prickled her eyes and a sharp pain spread through Mitsuki's ribs. Unaware, Keiko dissolved into giggles next to her. Mitsuki couldn't stop. Not until the tears dried up and the crowd fell silent to hear Hashirama's speech as leader to the future. The ache remained.

Hashirama smiled, glancing towards the others on the stage. At Madara's nod, he turned back to the people, holding out a hand to quiet the roar to continue. "Konohagakure represents more than buildings. Here, everyone will share in a lasting peace, protected by the knowledge that our children and the ones who come after will rise up knowing love and honor. Konohagakure is our future. And you represent all of our hopes of peace."

The words were damning.

Mitsuki tried to smile, but no matter how she pulled the muscles to compose her expression into something like joy, the only thing she managed was pain. She couldn't watch the new Hokage or the woman behind him. She was too vivid and far too gutting. Mitsuki let her eyes roam the other figures instead, sizing them up in their own rights and eyeing their weapons, but the longing rang hollow. It didn't make the feeling go away, but perhaps it helped the burning red vanish a little from her eyes.

Then suddenly it Tobirama looked right at her, his eyes sharp and intense even from across the crowd, like he could actually see her.

No. That was crazy.

Mitsuki laughed at her paranoia, feeling that hidden place crack deep inside, and the fact that she couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop cheering, and laughing as tears welled up again … That _ached._

Mitsuki wouldn't be here long. If there was anything in life she could promise, she wouldn't suffer this echo of the past any longer than she needed to. This moment meant something to everyone here. It was a new beginning, a different way of life that the world had never seen.

That _killed_ her a little on the inside.

Hopefully bringing everyone together in one spot would bring good, rather than destruction.

Hopefully when Mitsuki burgled all the information she needed, the village would be able to go on peacefully.

Hopefully, _for once in her forsaken life,_ it would be alright.

There was always so much damn hope in the world.

* * *

Breaking in was deceptively easy considering the guard had doubled overnight, allowing only thirty seconds before a two manned armed patrol passed below the front windows of the Tower. Mitsuki waited, watching the men carefully until they passed a blind spot before sending chakra to her feet, launching up out of the shadows and landing on the overhang outside of Hashirama's office window. With the man still held up at the celebration raging across the village, at least ten minutes away, it would probably be the best place to start.

Getting in took little more than picking the window lock, slipping inside, and closing it as if it'd never been tampered with. As a temporary precaution, she plucked a fitting book from one of the shelves and set it by Hashirama's door. If anyone tried to come in, the noise it would make sliding across the floor gave her plenty of warning to slip out of sight without causing any unnecessary alarm.

Foregoing the lamp next to Hashirama's desk, Mitsuki gave herself some time to let her eyes adjust to the fading light of the day before stepping up to check the messy stacks of papers and scrolls littered across the desk. With winter fading, the days were getting longer, but Mitsuki knew it wasn't nearly as late as it seemed with the setting sun. An hour, perhaps longer if she was lucky, and Hashirama, Tobirama, and Madara would be able to slip out of the celebration without offending any potential negotiations or expectations.

Mitsuki swallowed, feeling the lingering unease from the coronation. It was offsetting in a place she couldn't afford to be unsteady.

 _Facts. Focus on the facts._

Clearly Konohagakure was in league with the Uzumaki Clan. If the new symbol of the village wasn't a large enough sign in itself, there was that _woman_. Kami, Mitsuki should have recognized her features before. Maybe she was a diplomat coming over to watch the life-changing coronation; maybe she was a negotiator coming to leech out a chunk of Konohagakure's good fortune; or maybe she really was Hashirama's wife. There'd been rumors that the two clans were tied together by blood somehow, but Mitsuki always overlooked those whispers as deep ancestral ties, not current relations. Most people born in the Uzumaki Clan had the blood red hair and fair complexion; it was the only place she'd ever seen it before. Many clan's knew the talents and abilities Uzumaki possessed.

It was the reason she was here, damn it.

Holding back a sudden, bone weary yawn, Mitsuki scanned over the files in front of her twice to be sure. They were mission lists marking the names coming and going, but none stood out as significant, and no ninja went too far outside of the Fire Nation border to matter. Shifts changed constantly on the active ninja roster. Scouts, reconnaissance, transport support, construction detail, trade convoys, and negotiation messengers; everything building the foundation of this village depended on fluid and intelligent manipulation of every able hand willing to work. Knowing when guards shifted and patrolled cycled provided an edge, but it wasn't the one Mitsuki needed.

Considering the newly instated Hokage already _doubled_ the ninja protecting the Tower and he hadn't even been in charge for a whole day, there had to be something here worth protecting.

Mitsuki paused, closing her eyes and testing the air again for the guards next walk by. Instantly, her senses shot out, rippling over surfaces, shooting through doors and walls to find every soul within the building. Energy signatures lit up on various floors of the building, the chakra inside the rippling and shining bright inside of them as information fed into Mitsuki's mental eye. Two ninja patrolled the second floor, only halfway through the floor plan before they would head up onto her level. Their heart beats pulsed, loud and visible like the echoing thrums of a shamisen. Four others stood close enough, two by the front entrance, and two located at the back door while two more sets patrolled outside.

Mitsuki stretched her attention lower, but something blocked her from seeing past the seal on the hidden door towards the lower vaults. The jutsu let off a faint hum, making her chakra vibrate and shift overtop in a complex display, but whatever the added defenses were, they made it impossible to see how many ninja waited below that heavy latch.

With a deep breath, Mitsuki opened her eyes and the extra dimension of sight faded away again. There was enough time to get through more paperwork. Reaching the lower level might be too hard tonight with the extra guards. No doubt, more ninja would be stationed lower since she'd already been caught once slipping into that restricted area.

Picking up any temporary hospital requests from the secretaries inbox trays was out of the question too. There was too much risk to slip through the hallways. Without knowing the security measures Hashirama added, getting around would take time, too much time for the speed of the guard shifts right now. Perhaps the man wasn't as foolish as she thought; it was a bitter notion.

She went back to the stack of papers, blinking away the weariness that had begun to set in again. Tomorrow, she would worry about sneaking in to get any supply requests before they could make it to Hashirama's office, but for now, memorizing these names offered the most help. After a while the names started to blend, all of the carefully compact kanji slipping into a continual swirl before Mitsuki blinked back into focus.

Mission reports. Refugee counts. Zoning information. Requests for leave. Construction detail. Every boring piece of office information was scattered across the desk, but there was nothing useful. Konoha had been doing a good job hiding a lot of their ninja activities from the public to keep people from worrying. For such a young village there was an awful lot of foot traffic of elite ninja.

Sneaky bastards.

It wasn't what she needed.

Frustrated, Mitsuki took a deep breath. Leaving the paperwork on the desk, she wandered around the rest of the room, searching for any secrets or hidden jutsu covering more important information. There had to be something more. Every clan had secrets, dark, dirty corners of history they locked in closets and buried alive. Despite only existing for half a day, Konohagakure didn't appear overnight. Wars were difficult to bury, harder still to forgive, and Mitsuki knew first hand that creating times of peace meant occasionally stepping on a throat. A village this size had to have demons.

Outside of the large map of the Fire nation framed by two short bookshelves and a low table with four cushions, there wasn't much else in the room besides Hashirama's desk. The other side of the room held a few other tall bookcases, but the majority of the wall space was covered by six large windows overlooking the lit up village. A quick scan of the bookshelves revealed nothing suspicious. None had been linked to any trapped doors and there was far too little chakra in the room to have any restrictive seals covering anything. Mitsuki turned towards the large map, carefully peeling away each corner, but there was nothing but solid wall. Each step on the tiled floors felt normal and secure. No hidden doors or empty spaces were buried anywhere in the room. Mitsuki even bent down, checking the wooden surfaces of the table, running nimble fingers along every divot and grain, even feeling each cushion.

Nothing. There wasn't even a sign of protective wards or hidden weapons. The entire room was clean.

Mitsuki's body let out a jarring protest when she stood in defeat. Stretching, she popped one of the tense spots along her spine with a satisfying groan. The relief was short lived. Exhaustion sank back in, and Mitsuki fought the urge to rub her eyes. The moon wasn't even that high in the sky. Only a half an hour had passed since coming in.

It didn't seem like there was anything she could use in here.

"Damn," Mitsuki murmured, rubbing the back of her neck thoughtfully. "If not in here, then…"

The book shifted, sliding as a beam of light broke through the darkness of the room.

With a flurry, Mitsuki vanished, making a split second decision to leap out the window instead of disappearing into the shadows of the high ceiling. The two guards peeked in, sharing a look after scanning the entire room.

One nudged the other, noticing the book. "Did you put that there?"

"Baka! Why would I do something stupid like that," the other complained loudly. "It's bad enough we had to miss the party. If I was really that bored, do you think I would still be here walking patrols with you?"

It was an ordinary book, the title revealing it was about utopian society, and the guard placed it back on a shelf without a second thought.

"You don't have to be such a jerk about it," the guard mumbled, closing the door again.

Mitsuki peaked up from outside the window, allowing half a frown before locking it and leaping off before the outer patrol could round the corner. Tomorrow. She'd find another way to get in and find better information tomorrow.

* * *

 _Once upon a time, Mitsuki had a mother, a father, a brother, and two sisters._

 _Once upon a time, Mitsuki was happy, whole, and unbroken. Loyal friends supported her and a family stood hand-in-hand with love as life promised a better future. They stood in front of danger In that tender moment, she dared to dream._

 _Maybe when people learned trusting an enemy didn't require seeing inside them. Maybe when words like_ faith _and_ honor _stretched beyond family and pride. Maybe when people cared._

 _The world might change._

 _Once upon a time, Mitsuki broke. The dark reached out and swallowed everything precious. One by one, everything she cherished vanished. Nothing was there to stop darkness from shattering every truth she held inside. The jagged shards sliced open the hands trying to piece them back together, and the blood swirled together, choking her last dream to oblivion. Reality cracked. All that was left was a mangled mess of a reflection, a mirrored image of what should have been._

 _It wasn't until she stood in front of that splintered mirror that she realized the reflection wavered and vanished, because it never existed at all._

 _In the end, all of the fragments started to form a strangled picture, like echoes in the dark._

* * *

 **Translations/Explanations:**

 _-tan_ \- This honorific is similar to -chan; normally seen as baby talk since little kids use it most commonly; informal way to address children and female family members, lovers, etc.

 _samue_ \- work clothing (used to be mainly for Japanese Zen Buddhist monks when engaged in samu); made from cotton or linen; shirt that normally ties from the side

 _happuri_ \- similar to a headband, but covers sides of face and the forehead, worn by Tobirama and Yamato

Tobirama's name -(fēi jiān) means 'the space between two doors'; (Fēi, tobira) are seen as access to the progress and improvement that refers to his role as the Hokage that built the infrastructure of Shared knowledge base; 'Fēi' is also used to refer to the page of securities, which are consistent with the title Hokage, since a Hokage is as a representative for the village as the title page of a book.

 _gunbai_ \- a Japanese war fan, communicated commands to troops; typically made of wood or metal

 _tomoe_ \- abstract Japanese shape described as a swirl that represents a comma

 _kama_ \- a sickle used to reaping crops and as a weapon

 _haori_ \- traditional hip- or thigh-length kimono-like jacket, worn over a kosode _;_ doesn't close like a yukata, worn open or kept closed by a string that connects the lapels; sleeveless _haori_ used to be worn over armor

 _'open tipped strokes'_ \- In case you were curious about this when I mentioned the writing on Hashirama's Hokage hat, this refers to the process of writing calligraphy. You can either expose 'open tipped strokes', meaning show where the end of the brush stroke is made, or you can hide them by curling in the mark and preventing the small end from being seen; different styles represent different things (if you're interested, I know way too much about this because I think it's super interesting. Go nerd me!)

 _Kanzashi_ \- hair ornaments used in traditional Japanese hairstyles that can be modified for self defense; similar to senbon needle

 _junihitoe_ \- literally means 'twelve-layer robe'; extremely elegant and highly complex kimono worn by court-ladies in Japan

 _shamisen_ \- (also can be written _samisen_ ) three-stringed instrument that is played with a plectrum (small flat thing used to strum) called a bachi (wooden stick essentially); appears similar to a long-necked banjo


	5. Chapter 4

**Warning:** Drowning, mastermind manipulation, faint clan bashing, blatant rivalry, mild burning etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto's still not mine. Well kinda, but you know that ;)

 **Note:** Yay! Back on schedule. Thank you my silent stealth readers for the favs and follows. I'm glad to know that things aren't too straight forward for all of you :) A little anticipation makes the heart race. Let me know what you guys think of my Madara

Like before, translations and explanations are at the bottom. A wonderful thanks to my fantastic beta, Dimigex. That woman saves lives.

Updates every other Thursday evening, US time.

* * *

 **Catching Lightning In A Bottle**

 **Chapter 4**

A nebulous shape cut into her vision. Mitsuki blinked. For a moment she forgot everything, her mind bleaching into a soft white, as if suddenly where she was wasn't important anymore. The shape above bent, twisting and waving over her eyes. Water, she suddenly thought. Moving like water.

 _No_. Not quite.

A sound.

She blinked, her vision a little fuzzy.

The shape was there, swaying and bending. It was hazy, but the more Mitsuki tried to squint in the light, the more it disappeared. Instead she waited, staring blankly. Focused but unfocused. The shape came closer.

It called to her again.

The waves washed up. Flooding over her face. She gasped, arching up. The shape above swirled into a smile, a garbled voice as sinful as a promise calling out to her again, but her eyes couldn't see, and her body couldn't stop hacking as water washed up again and _again._

Something shoved down, crushing against her chest and her body slipped underneath the rising tide. Roaring in her ears. Filling her lungs. The weight on her limbs froze her as her body jerked, but her face couldn't break the water no matter how hard Mitsuki struggled. Hands reached out and held her down.

Her blood pounded like drums in her ears. It was everywhere. Cold. Suffocating.

 _Help me._

The words wouldn't come out.

Water already slipped down her throat, but the shape only watched, twisting and waving like water.

 _Please._

 _Help me._

Down. Down. The hands pulled and pushed until the sun was blocked out and the fingers clawed, ripping into her. Pulling her bluing skin inside out, and piling intestines messily around her throat.

She choked.

* * *

 _Three days later._

It was late.

With the days still growing longer, the sun had set hours ago, and only a few people milled about the busier streets. The village bustled now that several smaller clans from around the Fire Nation had come to call Konohagakure home. Even those who came into town for the coronation a few days ago wandered around the village to experience the lingering sense of celebration. It made it easy for Mitsuki to saunter down the streets in her civilian clothes without anyone paying close attention. The few who did smiled and called out, greeting Mitsuki politely, while others stared a little oddly at her darker complexion. Most were placated by her cheery smile and casual wave as she hummed bits of songs underneath her breath.

Mitsuki casually strolled down the streets towards the more expensive parts of town, taking the longer way home with her wicker basket clutched underneath her arm, filled with a few goods she'd traded herbs for.

It was mission time.

Everyone here trusted _this_ Mitsuki, the one they always saw selling meat and herbs, playing with all the kids, volunteering at the hospital, and everything else the growing village needed. Even the people new to the village noticed her, turning around to look as she went by. No one suspected that she might actually be a criminal in their midst. _This_ Mitsuki was untouchable.

One of her regular customers, a high society man related to one of the Senju councilmen named Katsumoto, conversationally mentioned a supply drop off in the noble section of the village tonight. Any material shipments coming into the village right now meant ninja transport support. Where there were ninja, there was always gossip.

Gossip ran this village.

Considering rumors had been going around about the new Hokage leaving the village for a few days, Mitsuki had to figure out a bit more. Without Hashirama, everyone would scramble to cover the extra work. Surely several guards would have escorted the new Hokage, meaning several less guards that might be in the Tower.

Twisting down the streets, Mitsuki kept an eye up on the half moon hanging in the sky like a glowing Cheshire grin. Large and bright as it was, it shone down like daylight, leaving the billions of brilliant stars in the sky fading back from its ominous beauty. There was something particularly haunting about that moon. Maybe her paranoia, or the chilly wind. Maybe a memory.

The part of the village Mitsuki headed into was nicer than most. Less people meandered about and more green space filled corners. Small _nihon teien_ gardens mimicked idealized landscapes in abstract ways and larger parks surrounded elaborate buildings. Over at this part of the village, the officials and clan representative lodged. Decorative fences ran along properties in regal, white curves. Water trickling from a _shishi odoshi_ fountain clanked like a requiem warding off bad spirits. Not too many people lived here yet; some day in the future, this would probably be a vital part of the village for many traveling dignitaries and messengers alike. But for now, there were only two main representatives. The stealthy Sarutobi and veracious Akamichi Clan.

One guess where the food shipment drop off was.

Exactly as Katsumoto said, two large wagons filled to the brim with supplies sat outside a particularly large, ornate house holding the Akamichi negotiators. Their Clan banners hung from the front posts of the fence, marking the territory. Four men shuffled back and forth from the house to the wagons, grunting and carrying large sacks on their shoulders. Only two of them made any noticeable noise for someone not paying attention; ninja never made a sound strictly out of habit, as long as they were decent.

These two seemed average.

 _Good._

Pulling up from her casual stroll around the village, Mitsuki stepped up to the low fence running around the property and willed every inch of hesitation out of her body with a friendly smile. "Good evening! Do you guys want a hand?"

All four men stopped, turning to look over at her small form with varying amounts of surprise. The shadows from the moon behind them made it nearly impossible to determine the features of any face, but from the silhouette the largest man next to one in a wide brimmed hat, Mitsuki had an idea of who provided the supplies. All four glanced between themselves before a smaller one stepped forward, adjusting the rim of his hat.

His voice was light, carrying easily across the slight breeze. "Is that you, Mitsuki?" She grinned, able to recognize that man anywhere. "What're you doing in this part of the neighborhood?"

Thanking any god out there for her run of luck, Mitsuki cheerfully waved at the familiar face. "Hey Yushin! I didn't realize that was you. I was out for a nightly walk and thought I'd offer a hand."

Yushin lived as a farmer not far from the village walls in a small town that voted to remain outside of Konoha for more land. He came twice a week to sell goods, and Mitsuki had made sure to help him anytime he needed it. Upon breaking into the most secure and unknown place in the ninja world, an emergency safe house was required. Mitsuki picked his farm. If anyone ever discovered her, she could vanish in one of his barns while Konohagakure looked for any sign of a rogue ninja fleeing the Fire Nation. No one in their right mind would expect a competent ninja to linger in enemy shinobi territory.

If Yushin was here, that meant one of the other men must be Kosei.

Scanning the four workers again, she looked at the one with the thickest build who'd given them away. Kosei was younger than Yushin by several years, but an unfortunate accident when he was younger rendered the man completely mute. Due to that, the two always came into town together; Yushin handled business while Kosei traded the favor with more work. He was _huge_ in the _I'll crack your skull between my elbows like a walnut_ kind of way.

One of the ninja frowned. It was clear he didn't trust her from the sudden tension along his shoulders, and the twitch towards the weapon pouch on his leg. Mitsuki stared hard to make sure it was actually a man—the slender curve of his face was deceptively soft; it wouldn't be the first time she'd been wrong.

She ignored the threat in favor of the two men who already knew her name and reputation. "It must have been a rush order if you're working this late," she offered.

Yushin stepped close enough for her to get a good look at his weathered face. The wrinkles pulled back lopsidedly in a smile. "Now, ya don' have ta worry 'bout that. We can handle dis here," he assured.

The less feminine escort elbowed Kosei, whispering low enough he didn't think Mitsuki would overhear. "Isn't that the woman that's always going around helping everyone around the village? An extra hand here wouldn't hurt, even if it's just for the light things."

Mitsuki nearly failed to hide her smile when Kosei turned to stare at him blankly.

It took a second before the ninja let out an awkward noise, running a hand down his face.

Pretending not to see the exchange, Mitsuki took it upon herself to find the unlocked gate and let herself into the rather large courtyard. "Nonsense," Mitsuki insisted. "I've got nothing better to do, and the company would be nice for a change."

Yushin shake his head, but she got the glint of moonlight off his toothy smile. "Alright. Come here an' help us here with dis stuff. Ya just leave the heavy liftin' ta us, alright, Mitsuki?"

She grinned lopsidedly. "Sure, sure."

It wouldn't be the first time.

* * *

The work wasn't that difficult really, not nearly as hard as she first expected when Mitsuki saw the two wagons loaded to the brim. The maids wanted all of the fresh produce moved before the morning, only giving them a few hours. Mitsuki easily slid up and grabbed for some of the lighter bags, leaving the heavier ones that would draw questioning gazes from the four men.

In no time at all, they cleared out the first wagon, and Yushin had them take a break while he and Kosei brought the next load closer to the door.

Leaning back against one of the front porch pillars, Mitsuki watched with quiet appreciation as the two farmers handled the horses expertly in the dark.

"Arigato Mitsuki-san," the feminine ninja escorts spoke up suddenly. Toma, if she remembered correctly. Blinking owlishly, she turned her attention his way only to see the man scratching the back of his head. "It was nice of you to offer even though you were on a walk. It's gone much faster with another set of hands."

Shrugging easily, Mitsuki lifted her eyes back to the glowing moon. "I like helping others when I get the chance," she explained.

Shomato spoke up, glancing over at her from his seat on the front steps. "I don't think I've ever seen you walk this way before. You come to this part often?"

Mitsuki ignored the prickle of paranoia as well-intended curiosity.

"It's always nice to walk over here at night." Sparing another look his way to soften her words with a smile, Mitsuki continued to try and break down their suspicions as quickly as possible. "It's a lot quieter than the restaurant strips."

Both of them snorted at the thought.

"Besides, it's pretty close to the makeshift hospital too. I had to stop by to get my basket back." She nodded her head over to the side of the steps where she'd stowed it, and Shomato relaxed at the sight of it.

Not that she had come here _from_ the hospital. The only reason she still had her basket was because she didn't want to miss out on the chance of some juicy information after she'd finished trading with some new people visiting for the coronation.

They didn't need to know that.

Finally Shomato's shoulders eased a little and Mitsuki had to bite back her successful grin. He and Toma shared a look that was almost pleasant, but it was hard to tell with ninja. There were too many codes and hand signals; every clan had their own system. Judging by their postures, it couldn't have been bad.

She pushed her luck a little more as Yushin and Kosei finally situated the wagons, keeping a lazy eye on them while they checked the horses. "It'll be nice once the actual hospital is finished," she goaded.

Toma nodded. "Yeah. I've heard Hashirama-sama's been really busy with meetings so he hasn't gotten around to it yet. His wood jutsu is absolutely incredible."

"Isn't he supposed to be leaving to see the Daimyo again?" Shomato asked.

"Yeah, to finish up all of the village information I think."

Blinking at the sudden information, she filed it away for the best opportunity. No one saw much of Hashirama after the celebration, but leaving the village so soon seemed careless. "I didn't realize that," she admitted. "I figured he's been dealing with politics or kissing babies."

The two laughed as the others rejoined them with raised eyebrows. "What're you guys getting on about?" Yushin inquired.

"Waiting on you two to stop playing in the dark," Toma grinned, catching Mitsuki with a quick elbow in the arm. She hid flinch of pain— _always_ right in the most sensitive spot—knowing that most people wouldn't have felt the bone on bone contact. "We were just talking about Hokage-sama."

Yushin raised an eyebrow, but if he was surprised with the sudden chattiness of one of the escorts, he didn't say anything. Mitsuki had a way of opening others up.

"I'm glad he was picked," Toma continued. "He does so much for the village. He even found time to finish the training grounds yesterday."

 _Did he?_ Mitsuki stored that little tidbit away too with a smile.

Yushin smiled fondly and his eyes stared out at something no one else could see as his tone turned wistful. "That man is definitely a special ninja if I ever saw one. He made all of this possible with just the help of that scary Uchiha."

Mitsuki paused, blinking as that processed.

 _Scary?_

Well, it wasn't a _lie_ exactly. Madara was downright _terrifying,_ but no one could deny he deserved more recognition than 'he helped' judging by the rumours she heard.

Toma and Shomato shared another ambiguous look, and Toma turned to offer Yushin a neutral shrug. As if on cue, the two got up and headed towards the wagon to grab more bags, and Mitsuki watched them a little closer before following. Yushin didn't seem to notice, but she did. There might be a few other alligators lying at the bottom of the lake around this village after all.

"Then, Hashirama-sama's still planning on doing more?" Mitsuki asked, innocent as possible to get things back on track.

The second she reached out to grab her own bag to carry, fatigue hit her like a hammer to the head. _Sleep_ , the voice hissed again, coiling tight around her throat and adding spots on her eyes. _Sleep_. For a second it almost felt like her knees would lock, but Mitsuki blinked away the feeling viciously.

"—a library, and some central intelligence building, but, like I said, I'm not sure. That man just does too much."

 _Shit_. She missed some of it.

Shomato already vanished into the building with Yushin before she could push further. At least Toma stayed behind, waiting on her with a trusting smile. So far, he was the easiest to get information from.

"You alright?" he asked.

The concern was impossible to miss. He must have seen the falter in her step or how Mitsuki had to stop to clear her sight again from that little attack. Despite being a generally clueless ninja, there were too many careful movements and strategic angling learned through years of intense practice to mark him as a total fool. Thankfully, Mitsuki's deflection was a bit of the truth. "Oh, I'm fine. I realized Hashirama-sama isn't here protecting the village and the thought scared me a little, that's all."

Toma bought it, without hesitation.

Mitsuki turned to hide her broad grin. That was smooth, even she had to admit it, and it was impossible to suppress the tingling pride at the achievement. Infiltration might not have been her niche, but damn, she was owning it.

"Don't worry," Toma assure, pausing to let her pass through the door first. His smile was warm and reassuring in the perfect amount of oblivious trust. "The village is safe. You don't have to worry about anything happening just because Hashirama-sama had to leave for a few days."

The mix of lingering worry and confusion was easy to fake. "But who's going to be watching over the village while he's gone?"

 _Please say Madara. Please say Madara. Anyone but Tobirama._

"Madara-sama, I assume. I'm pretty sure Tobirama-sama headed out with him. You know, advising and all."

The slight burn in her muscles suddenly didn't feel like anything at all. _If_ that was true, Hashirama and Tobirama were gone. Madara was the only one left in her way.

Stepping a little faster, Mitsuki used her internal clock to gauge the time. By now, most people should have left the Hokage Tower, and even if the village defenses were increased due to Hashirama's absence, no one would be remotely close enough to identify her chakra if she broke in by force without Tobirama around.

The rest of the wagon flew by, and Mitsuki carefully led the conversation to less suspicious territories, building up as much reputation with Toma and Shomato as possible in case she needed to use them again.

After all, there was no time like the present.

* * *

No matter how many times Tobirama sat down with his brother and Madara, things never got any easier between the two. It was no secret they hardly got along—assuming someone would even say that _—_ but with the dawn of their dreams finally coming to fruition, Hashirama hoped that they would be more … well, _civil_ perhaps. He mentioned it enough times Tobirama could hear the same exasperated complaints from looking at his face.

The three sat in Hashirama's office at the low table, perched easily on their own cushion in varying states of ease. By now the sky had already arched into soft blues and purples as the sun faded from the day, leaving husks of warmth that were quickly dipping down with the final chills of winter nights. Tobirama knelt formally, carefully composed as always, in the seat closest towards the wall where he could see all the windows behind Hashirama's desk, as well as the door. Madara himself was only a little better, resting both of his arms on the table in a lazy manner, despite the fact that the tension in his shoulders never eased. He leaned like a panther waiting for the right moment, tail flicking in faux repose.

As usual, Hashirama sat in between the men to limit any unnecessary tension. For a change, the three had tea, due to the thoughtfulness of one of the secretaries on the first floor. Neither Tobirama or Madara touched their cups. The steam rose silently.

Hashirama took a long gulp, letting the _nearly_ scalding liquid give him the strength to make it through this meeting with all three of heads attached.

"The coronation went well," he began cheerfully. Neither one of his advisors matched his joy at the fact, but he disregarded the thought. Inside, he _knew_ they were both as happy about it as he was. That was enough to let him smile cheerfully. "Even those who traveled are still in the village. I think that it's starting to come together!"

Tobirama hummed stoically, eyes carefully watching the Uchiha's face for any changes.

Madara stared back duly, eyes mercifully remaining black.

Hashirama glared minutely, and with an infinitesimal flinch Tobirama opened his mouth to offer a better answer. "It is promising that there were no disturbances along the borders."

Not exactly what he was hoping for.

At least it was something.

Hashirama let himself sink a little more in his seat, finally setting down his teacup before he burnt off his tongue. "Now that Konohagakure is official, we should expect other lands to hear of all of the clans joining through the daimyo, at least." Hashirama continued, "The news will no doubt bring others to join in on the peace; we should expect an increase in refugees accordingly."

"Or war," Madara added lightly, as if the idea was as easy as mentioning the weather.

Tobirama's eyes flashed towards the man as his back straightened, wrapping one large hand around his teacup despite making no move to take even a sip. A small smile, something dark and knowing, crossed Madara's lips before it vanished, too fast to be seen.

Hashirama willed himself the patience not to scold them like children.

Forcibly turning his attention back to his brother, Tobirama clearly decided to cut through the pleasantries and small talk while he still had the patience of mind to deal with this, judging by his _definitely-not-a-scowl_.

None of them particularly wanted to be here. A few hours in each other's presence was fine. To Tobirama, spending three days together while suffering political talks and questions was subtle torture.

If there was one thing Hashirama was good at it was well-intended torture.

"We need to reinforce the borders and shorten the response time in an emergency now that most of the skeleton structures around the village have been built," Tobirama informed, rumbling voice carrying throughout the room. Folding his arms tightly across his chest, he paused only a second before continuing. "Other clans will no doubt test our strength and resolve. We need to be prepared for how the other nations will respond. While the last couple of days showed everyone in the village is content with the direction of the village, others might not be. Safety bunkers should be one of the first priorities."

Despite the fact that Konoha was peaceful with a few clans coming together to work for a better future, they were far from securing their safety. Now was time to fortify their military and create the foundations that would direct the people for years to come.

Madara eyed Tobirama closely before turning his entire focus towards Hashirama. "The mountain would be a good place. With your face carved into the stone, it would be easy to build a tunnel system under the ruse of stairs leading to the monument."

"The villagers further out would need closer bunkers or safe spots," Tobirama quipped. "It would take too long to funnel everyone into one location. Should the secrecy be compromised it could be catastrophic."

Madara's eyes flashed, his grip tightening on his cup minutely. Tobirama's eyes shot towards the movement, but the tea hadn't so much as rippled. "There isn't anyone _out_ that far yet. For now, the mountain face would be adequate. We should build up our forces to make sure no one dares to attack."

A million arguments and scathing remarks shone in Tobirama's tongue, but as if he could sense the shift in the conversation Hashirama spoke up, cutting the tension. "Eventually we should have four different locations, and maybe a fifth later on," Hashirama mused. He stared towards the map laid out on the table between them. It was a detailed rendition of the current boundaries of the village, though some areas hadn't been updated due to the fast progression. Quite a bit was still comprised of forest, but eventually it would be filled with people. The area back towards the mountain on the western side of village was the only seriously developed area. "Any less, and it would take too long to move the citizens to safety. We'll have to designate ninja for each section to direct everyone correctly."

"Akuson and Mitarashi would both be good choice to begin construction on the bunkers with their Earth affinity," Tobirama murmured, mentally going through the active ninja roster. "Perhaps Idate once he returns from his mission."

Most ninjas were occupied building, or out of the village on missions to support the growing financial burden of the expanding village. But there were a few that could be spared if he rearranged the mission rotations and guard shifts. It'd be another day spent pouring over scrolls, but by now Tobirama came to expect it. It wasn't like he didn't already lose sleep working as it was.

"I'll check through the rest of the active roster to find a few more that are a good fit. Are there any Uchiha who you would recommend, Madara?" For a moment, Tobirama nearly admitted that he was unfamiliar with many of the Uchihas' secondary chakra natures. Thankfully he caught himself before the words could slip out, because _never_ would he admit to something even _remotely_ like a weakness to the man.

The Uchiha thought for a moment, staring almost lazily down into his tea cup. "Toshro and Gin would be able to assist," he answered. With more resolve and something almost akin to victory, he continued, "The Uchiha can fill any gaps in the ninja rosters in the meantime."

Tobirama bit back several remarks, nodding.

It was civil enough.

A sudden thought struck Hashirama as the trio lapsed into a thoughtful silence. At least, Hashirama hoped it was a thoughtful silence instead of the tense sizing up that the two constantly participated in.

Hashirama frowned. "I won't be able to finish the hospital and central intelligence building until next week. I have to leave again in the morning."

Madara raised a perfectly arched brow. "What could that old man possibly want now? You just met with him last week." His disdain for the daimyo was as clear as day.

Shrugging unhelpfully, Hashirama rubbed the side of his nose. "I don't know," he admitted. "It probably has to do with the other clans. Whatever it is, I probably won't be back for at least four days, maybe longer. I was supposed to leave today, but there was too much that needed finished."

Damn.

That meant Tobirama would have to go to the bimonthly meeting with the Senju Clan elders by himself, _again._ This was twice now that Hashirama would be out of the village for it. At this rate, they were going to think he was ignoring them on purpose.

Tobirama blinked, stealing a glance from the corner of his eye at his brother.

 _Was he?_

No.

Tobirama mentally brushed the thought away. Hashirama wouldn't possibly do something like that. At least … not likely.

On that conclusion, Tobirama cut in again, determined to finish this meeting as soon as possible. There were others things he needed to do, _damn it._ "Have you gotten any responses from any of the clans yet?"

They'd sent out letters to all the clans in the area, holding assurances and bribes in equal measure to persuade them to join in the growing village. Most of them had been sent out after the coronation three days ago, but it wasn't too early for responses, especially from the closer clans.

It'd taken several days of negotiating—and aggressive arguing with a stubborn Uchiha who seemed to believe that anyone who didn't voluntarily offer their loyalty shouldn't be included without sacrifices—to decide which clans they would be willing to make cornerstones of the village. Within the Fire Nation there were four noble clans who would be considered high value should they agree to negotiations, the Uchiha being among them. However, Tobirama still had to convince them to abandon compounds and territories that they'd protected and bled for over generations, uproot everyone to travel through potentially dangerous territory, and move into an empty plot of land.

Hashirama hummed. "We've already heard back from the Yamanaka, Aburame, and Nara clans, but I haven't heard from the Hyuuga either way."

Madara sneered, turning the teacup lazily in his hand. "The Hyuuga always take their sweet time." It was no secret the Uchiha and Hyuuga didn't get along; if they weren't so similar, they might have managed a powerful alliance.

If it wasn't true, Tobirama might have felt the need to be offended out of habit. However, the Hyuuga had always been proud people. In fact, the only other clan he'd ever met that rivaled their arrogance sat squarely across from him. Not that he could ever admit that.

Regardless, few clans could challenge the Hyuuga's prowess with dojutsu, and prestige as a whole. They would make a perfect reassurance to smaller clans torn between whether or not moving into the village would be worth the hardships. With the Akamichi Clan already in negotiations, and the Aburame Clan considering talks, adding the Hyuuga to the village would give Konoha all four noble clans in the Fire Nation. The Sarutobi Clan was nearly guaranteed by the ancestral ties with the Senju; once the details were hammered out, they would officially join as well. Several small clans had participated as well, and more came to negotiate weekly.

"We still haven't heard from the Izunuka's either."

Tobirama nodded. "I'll send out another message in a few days if they don't respond."

"Even though things are going well with the Sarutobi and Akamichi Clan's, I still wish things would move along faster," Hashirama commented with a frown. "The message to the Uzumaki probably hasn't arrived yet."

Madara shifted, and Tobirama couldn't quite catalog the reason this time. The Uchiha's face contorted through several flickers of emotions, but none of which were even substantial enough to be noted. When he spoke, his voice was gruffer than usual. "With your wife, the Uzumaki should be the least of your concerns."

Hashirama sighed, his eyes settling into an ease they only ever seemed to reach with Madara or his wife, and Tobirama felt the overwhelming need to glance away.

Madara shifted, and Tobirama locked the interaction away for further study later.

"It's probably best that things don't move faster."

Both of their eyes flickered towards the white haired man, and with a slight pause he found himself compelled to elaborate. "Considering we'd most likely have to offer help building the plots of lands, it's best if things do take some time before either clan decides to fully join and move into the village. Right now, there isn't enough manpower or resources available. We're still waiting on several convoys, and it takes time to organize all of the forces.

"In a couple of weeks, everything should be prepared to accept several hundred people, but for now things are spread thin. Too many ninja's have been sent out to secure and reinforce the boundaries from potential threats, as well as secure alliances and negotiations around the Fire Nation. Others are already being used to set up and support refugees."

Madara rested his pointed chin in his palm thoughtfully, finally releasing the cup. Tobirama allowed himself the luxury of easing the tension between his shoulders. "Perhaps we should let them build up their own lands. They will be the ones to live there, after all. Others interfering would only complicate things or insult traditions. We should spend more resources monitoring how the other nations are reacting to the news of the village."

Hashirama frowned at the thought. "No, we should help all our new friends and allies into the village. They will become our brothers and sisters in arms and integral to our success. I want everyone to know the feeling of helping each other. It will bring of us together, and make this new land our home."

Tobirama closed his eyes to hide the sharp intake of breath.

 _That_ was the reason why Hashirama had been elected Hokage. There wasn't a doubt in Tobirama's mind. If his brother could channel the strong, determined, loving leader he was _all of the time,_ nothing could stand in his way.

Perhaps that was why people flocked here, throwing all their faith onto the far-flung dreams of this man.

Tobirama closed his eyes again and took in a deep, filling breath. For just that moment, he let himself admire, alongside Madara, the one person that had managed to work through all of the insurmountable odds.

"Besides, it's still a little early for the other lands to have heard about us, isn't it?"

Madara spun a long, deadly finger along the rim of his cup. "That depends on the loose lips of our daimyo, doesn't it? Even though clans mostly stick to themselves, all Daimyo meet monthly?"

Tobirama hummed absently, letting his eyes drift to a place above the Uchiha's head. Subtly as possible, he unfolded his arms, placing his hands on his knees and letting two of his fingers stretch out to touch the floor.

 _Odd._

For a moment, he thought he felt something. Something … _empty,_ that sucked the air from one spot and brushed by his side. A strange _absence_ , that he'd never had to describe before.

It almost reminded him of that strange woman he'd felt at the coronation.

Whatever it was, it was gone. As he sensed out with the added focus of his fingertips reading vibrations along the floor provided, he couldn't feel anything unusual. It was probably an argument or something down the street; strong emotions always tingled at his senses.

To his dismay, Tobirama realized he zoned out of the conversation for a moment.

"—can't refuse. We already hold three of the tailed beasts sealed away. Eventually all of the clans will join our growing strength."

 _That_ certainly didn't sound promising. The bijuu were uncontrollable. They devastated whole nations and slaughtered hundreds of innocents in a single rage. Thankfully, the pieces clicked in place, and he could guess where the conversation went.

"People shouldn't have to join because they are afraid! I want everyone to believe in peace," Hashirama pressed, far too emotional and invested. "The bijuu have already done enough damage to the land. All people need to do is understand the Will of Fire and everything will come together."

Madara snorted softly, straightening. Hashirama might never see the movement as the threat it was, but Tobirama's temper bristled at Madara's audacity to think he could bully Hashirama into a decision.

Madara would never understand the hurt that flickered across Hashirama's face.

"Other nations are going to see the village more as a threat than a revolutionary ideal," Tobirama chimed in, mainly to deflect the situation in a new direction. While things were peaceful now, there could be backlash soon. They needed to make sure they weren't positioning themselves in a bad way. It was the one thing everyone needed to work together to avoid. "People won't be able to handle more wars breaking out between clans if this fails. If this village were to fall apart for any reason, the chances of ever forming a new one are destroyed."

An rebuttal hung on Madara's lips, but he never got the chance to say it. With every strength and assurance of a man that knew, Hashirama said, "People will never-."

 _CRACK!_

A burst of chakra shook the building, knocking over the small teacups and spilling hot tea across the low table. Within a second, the three were on their feet, Hashirama cursing under his breath as the scalding liquid doused his pants. Several pens and scrolls clattered to the ground as the building groaned.

"What was that?" Madara demanded, already having pulled a kunai from the folds of his yuka. In a breath, he flashed towards the side of the door, standing in a spot hidden from anyone attempting to sneak in, weapon poised to kill.

Tobirama stood by the window, shoving it open to watch the entrance to the Tower. He knew that sound. After the last break in, the entire building had been refortified and booby-trapped. That sound had been of one of the reinforced seals triggering somewhere on the lower levels.

Two ninja burst into the room, spurting out streams of information. With a quick glance, Tobirama assessed the twitch of movement from Madara, but with truly impressive restraint, he froze at the sight of friendly ninja coming in to report. Tobirama refocused his attention, scanning for a figure leaping away through the buildings while keeping an ear open to hear where they had tried breaking in this time. No one competent enough to hide their chakra so flawlessly would stick around to get caught after such a commotion. Surely the one they were after would be hiding in the crowds.

He'd felt it _again_.

And just like last time, he sat there and did nothing.

"Hokage-sama! Another break in!"

"Someone broke into the sealed records on the second level!"

Recent negotiations and trade agreements were held there. A saboteur perhaps. No assassin would need access to that information, unless they were searching for leverage.

"What should we do, Hokage-sama?"

Narrowing his eyes, Tobirama felt out with his chakra, resting his pointer and middle finger against the wooden windowsill to anchor his presence. Past Hashirama and Madara, dozens of other ninja popped to the front of his mind in vivid color. Chakra swirled together, focusing until even the youngest civilian child appeared in the smallest trace of spiritual energy. The nearest crowd wasn't until several buildings down, but no one seemed to weave further away in a hurry. Beyond, everyone else was retiring for the night. People close enough were staring this way. No doubt they felt the chakra or heard the commotion; covering this up would take more than a pretty lie.

"Did anyone see them?" Hashirama demanded. "Where did they go?"

The first man shuffled, arms pressed tight to his side, and Tobirama heard the motions of a bow. "They were already gone by the time we got there, Hokage-sama."

"The seals on the first floor incoming missions desk was tampered with too."

Hashirama's presence stepped up next to him, radiating the assurance and rolling chakra of the First Hokage. Despite speaking towards the men coming in, his eyes scanned outside the window.

Tobirama spared a glance towards his brother, taking in the troubled frown and pinch around his eyes. Hashirama sighed, reading that Tobirama missed them in the short moment. All of the information was still swirling in Tobirama's mind, showing him areas he wasn't even facing, but the fact remained the same.

"Check the building again," Hashirama ordered, and only those who knew him well might have caught the slight change in his tone that sounded far too close to acceptance. "There is a chance they could be hiding somewhere waiting for us to shift our focus out on the village. Leave no area unchecked."

Tobirama's grip splintered the wood in a resounding crunch _._ There was no one running, no one hiding.

They escaped again.

* * *

 **Translations/Explanations:**

 _nihon teien -_ traditional Japanese gardens avoiding artificial ornamentation, and highlight the natural landscape; made to appear olden

 _shishi odoshi -_ water fountain made to scare away animals; typically bamboo segmented tube that fills up with water and tips over once there is enough weight past the center of gravity

dojutsu - ninja abilities using the eye typically involving a kekkei genki


	6. Chapter 5

**Warning:** romance pains, major sleep deprivation, society expectations, fake women, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto's still not mine. Well kinda, but you know that ;)

 **Note:** Finally some actual action between Tobirama and Mitsuki! Woot! I know I've taken a little longer with the set up everything with them, but I wanted to try and keep things a little bit more realistic. Not that I don't love my fair share of stories where the OC just intertwines their life with all the big shots of Konoha, but considering, you know, life problems, I think it would take a little bit more time. As more Naruto characters come into the story all of the OCs will fade back a little bit, but they have a purpose. Promise. Hopefully they haven't been too overbearing for all of your lovelies :)

Thanks so much for all of your favorites and follows. I loved reading your reviews and appreciate constructive criticism. A gigantic thanks to my fantastic beta, Dimigex. She does so much with everything on her plate.

Like before, translations and explanations are at the bottom.

Updates every other Thursday evening, US time.

* * *

 **Catching Lightning In A Bottle**

 **Chapter 5**

Keiko fretted anxiously among the rows of flowers, absentmindedly watering the same plants multiple times as her mind drifted. There was a chart, hidden behind the back counter listing how often each plant required tending, and Mitsuki hardly bothered counting how many times she'd already broken the rule of thumb. Every seven anxious steps, she would spin around and start the cycle again.

Mitsuki eyed her carefully from her perch on the counter of her friend's flower shop, trying to determine what could possibly upset her this profoundly. Whatever is was didn't look as if it was malicious, so she sat back against the wall, waiting for her friend to speak up. She'd talk when she was ready.

 _If it's not anytime soon she's going to flood the store,_ Mitsuki thought with a snort.

The shop was small, with fresh wooden floors and simple white walls, but the business was decent. Honestly, it was nothing noteworthy; hardly large enough with two rooms to hold the plants and a section of jewelry Mitsuki fabricated. Still, it was more than either could have hoped for, a sanctuary in it's own right. Most days, a few people would wander in and out, but thanks to everyone trying to make a new home, the arranged bouquets Keiko staged kept selling out. Until the shop could survive off flowers alone, the jewelry served to keep Keiko's shop afloat in an alluring balance of nature and elegance. When word spread to the new people arriving, customers would start flowing. After all, Mitsuki wouldn't stay here forever.

"Is it normal for men to act so … forward in other clans?"

Mitsuki jolted, smacking her head hard on the back wall with a resounding _crack._ Keiko flinched, but she hardly noticed, too busy blinking away the fuzzy spots that'd covered her line of sight.

Keiko stared at her, watering can held tightly in both hands. Mitsuki rubbed the back of her head more as a habit than to actually relieve any pain, and her eyes must have been full blown by the tint to Keiko's cheeks. The words lingered between them. Mitsuki looked her friend over again, and if Keiko's reddening face was any indicator, the silence wasn't too pleasant on her end.

Mitsuki blinked to make sure.

"Excuse me?"

Of course Mitsuki had a pretty good idea _why_ Keiko would ask something as random as that, but it never hurt to hear the exact reason. Her imagination was too colorful to leave it open.

A delectable blush fanned across her pale cheeks, too precious to even look at. Mitsuki stared at Keiko's hands instead, watching them twist and rub anxiously along the handle. "I asked if it was normal for men to be so bold in other clans," she repeated timidly, as if uttering the words a second time somehow made it more embarrassing to think about. Considering the topic, it wasn't too surprising. "I just … there's tradition and steps with the Uchiha. Men don't just …" She waved her hair around as if it helpfully filled in her thoughts.

 _What?_

Mitsuki raised an amused eyebrow, barely holding in her laugh for the other girl's expense; at fifteen it was _far_ too early to think about this. Or maybe too late. If Keiko managed to work herself up into such a tizzy because she had a date, there was no telling how she would handle anything that followed in a successful romantic relationship. Like _affection._ Traditions or not. All the blood would rush to her face in a heartbeat and she'd die. _How in the world did_ I _become the words of wisdom for this?_

A better questions was: what in the world could the Uchiha practice that would make a date seem _forward?_

"Well," Mitsuki began, drawing out the word as her brain scrambled to gain traction. It wasn't very often someone caught her off guard. Keiko must think other men would ravish her on the first date. Perhaps, if it didn't show how little the Uchiha really knew about their new Senju allies, Mitsuki might have found the naïve prejudice offensive in a terribly funny way. "If you consider asking a charming and beautiful woman out to lunch _forward,_ then yes, I suppose." The skirting answer worked as intended judging from the furrow in Keiko's brow. "Though I haven't quite read up on clan policies on dating. I'm sure they're all very different…"

"Mitsuki," Keiko groaned. "I'm serious."

Pretending not to know what Keiko was complaining about, Mitsuki continued, gaining some steam now that her mind had something solid, and completely unimportant, to ramble about. Musing more to herself, she pretended to think aloud, "Then again, I can't be sure if Noboru's a ninja. Even though Hashirama was nineteen when he got married, most ninja marry _really_ young. It's better that way."

Keiko took the bait, hesitating even as she asked. "Why's that?"

"Well, to have lots of babies of course. The clan's have to stay strong somehow. Too many things happen to ninja to leave anything up to chance."

" _Babies!_ " Keiko squeaked. The exclamation caught her off guard as much as it sparked a light in Mitsuki's eyes, and her free hand quickly snapped over her mouth as if it could take back the surprise.

Young ladies certainly did not _squeak._

Mitsuki leveled Keiko with the flattest stare she could muster. "Of course. Ninja need eight or nine children before they died so they have to start early. With all of the wars and missions, more is always better. Why else do you think men go after such young girls? Noboru didn't even _glance_ my way. Twenty's _way_ too old _._ You're perfect for a ninja."

Whatever ridiculous dark fears she'd conjured in Keiko's head turned her entire face pasty white. Despite that, she tried to set her jaw. "Don't you play with me, MitsukI! I'm not one of your kids you can torment all day."

Oops. Pushed too hard.

 _Oh well._

"Well, how do people get together within the Uchiha compound?" Mitsuki backtracked, genuinely curious. The chances of another situation coming up where it would be socially acceptable to ask was infinitesimal.

Some of the color returned to Keiko's cheeks, and she took a settling breath before starting, "If a man likes a woman, then he would determine whether or not she liked him back by giving her a gift." Mitsuki nodded, compelling her to continue. "Most people give bracelets or necklaces. If she wears it, then he would approach her father and tell him of his intentions. Then, the two would start dating."

That was certainly an odd way to go about it. Then again, it wasn't too different to how people proposed back in Mitsuki's homeland, but that was an engagement; her clan didn't have any odd customs to establish dating. Emotions were already painful enough.

"Huh."

Keiko pursed her lips, but Mitsuki stared at the ceiling, mind stretching far away. The hazy look stretched on a moment too long. Mitsuki only noticed when she felt Keiko's gaze weighing through the lingering emotions that dredged up.

"Do you know what the Senju do?" Keiko called after a long pause. "Mitsuki?"

"Hm?" Snapping out of her thoughts, Mitsuki rubbed the back of her head. "Sorry. What did you ask?"

"Do you know if the Senju do anything like that? What the Uchiha do, I mean."

 _Should I?_ Mitsuki blinked at the thought. She met Keiko's gaze blankly. "No."

Out of the bottom of her eye, she saw everything about Keiko slump down. "I just thought … you know, with Jin, you might know something." The watering can in her hands lowered carefully.

There it was again. That insinuation. Mouth puckered, Mitsuki tried to hide her distaste, but thankfully, the conversation didn't require an actual response. She was running out of them anyways.

She sighed. "If you're that concerned about traditions then you might as well ask the man yourself." Keiko looked up. Mitsuki stared at the ceiling instead of facing the curious stare; avoiding her gaze first place marginally made it easier to talk about personal things. "He will give you a far better answer than I ever could. Communication in any relationship is more important than anything you might find embarrassing or uncomfortable. I, for one, find no reason that meeting a polite, hard working, attractive young man with no ill intentions, at all, for lunch is too early for anything."

The protest rose up, silently screaming about propriety, but the situation was already far too serious for Mitsuki's tastes. "But what if—"

It was impossible to hold back the smile. It stretched almost painfully across her face. "Honestly, if I were you, I'd expect konbu," Mitsuki grinned with a scandalous wink.

" _Mitsuki!_ " Keiko wailed, promptly burying her red face in her hand. The thought of the seaweed traditional gifted to grant many children was horrifying to imagine. "That's not funny! I thought you were being serious!"

"What?" she asked, nearly falling over as a stitch pinched between her ribs in laughter. "I thought you said you were going to eat?"

"Not konbu!"

Mitsuki gwaffed, loud and obnoxiously, the force snapping her head painfully back against the wall behind the countertop, but it only brought more tears to her eyes and her body heaved with laughter.

"Mitsuki," she moaned. " _You're so mean_!"

Eyeing the clock ticking softly on the wall, Mitsuki wondered with a sly grin if Keiko realized how long she commiserated in her thoughts. She didn't take any offense as Keiko grumbled something and turned away. If anything, Mitsuki pretended not to notice the spackling of red dusting her cheeks, lest her friend decided to disown her.

"Speaking of the man in question …" Mitsuki didn't miss the way Keiko tensed sourly, and she couldn't help but smile. "I do believed that he is going to be waiting quite a while at the new Tonkatsu restaurant if you hang around any longer."

"What?"

Keiko's head snapped up to look at the clock. Sensing the movement before it happened, Mitsuki flashed unseen behind her as Keiko flung herself into motion, dropping the the watering can in her hurry as she scrambled to get her things in order. Mitsuki caught it easily, adjusting her grip to let the water swirl around inside without spilling. She calmly placed it back along the back wall with the other gardening tools, and moved to collect the bag Keiko would search for in the wrong place. If Keiko noticed that her friend suddenly vanished from the countertop, she didn't say a word.

"Oh no," she mourned, scrubbing her hands a little too viciously in the sink. "I'm going to be late!"

"You know what they say, nothing sparks romance more than anticipation." The recited words fell like a long forgotten lullaby rolling from the tip of her tongue.

Collecting the small container of lotion and other creams from the counter Keiko insisted upon carrying around, Mitsuki carefully placed them into her fabric bag in time for Keiko to burst around the corner, fixing her pin straight hair into a strange braid along the side of her head. With patient hands it might have looked flattering, but the girl was in far too much of a rush to catch the stray strands.

"But it's a date! I can't be late. A woman should never be late!" Her eyes scanned furtively around the store. "Have you seen my bag? It's not in the back room."

Holding it up, Mitsuki held back a laugh at how Keiko's shoulders fell into a sigh. Instead, she batted away the trembling, hands trying to finish the braid and reached up to fix it. The strands were soft and silky, thankfully coming undone fairly easy while Keiko double-checked to make sure she had money in her wallet. First dates were better off as natural as could be, especially to lunch.

"Don't worry," Mitsuki soothed, tucking some strands behind her ear and dusting off some potting soil that managed to get on her sleeve. "It'll be just fine. He already likes you so all you have to do is be yourself."

Keiko grasped her hands before Mitsuki could finish tying the sash around her simple forest green kimono into a more elegant knot. Pressing her hands against the fabric, she asked the same question she'd been bringing up all week. "Are you sure that you're ok with watching the shop while I'm out? I know that it's your day off. You don't have to do it. I can just close for a little bit."

It wasn't like there was something else she _could_ be doing since every man and their brother stood at the Hokage Tower to receive a living placement. All of the information she needed was stored there. Keiko's misplaced concern was sweet, but unnecessary. She couldn't burden Mitsuki with work; it was the only thing that passed time.

Rolling her eyes, Mitsuki puffed out her cheeks childishly. "Just go already. I'm fine with watching flowers."

Then it happened: the worst thing that could have happened.

Cringing, Mitsuki couldn't pull back in time as a large yawn cropped up, forcing her eyes closed and back into an arch. As hard as she tried, she couldn't hold it in. Even her eyes temporarily hazed, spots covering as she sucked in air.

 _Shit,_ Mitsuki thought darkly, blinking herself awake.

Sure enough, Keiko gave her a pointed look, lips pursed tightly in a frown. It was the same one she always gave whenever she didn't like something Mitsuki was doing. Afterall, that look was her closest companion.

"Mitsuki," she began, but Mitsuki cut her off before she could even start, pulling her belt with a little emphasis as she began retying it.

"I'm _fine._ " Mitsuki gave Keiko time to pout in disagreement before pushing on. "I've been helping out for over a week now. I can handle the shop."

"But you already do so much! You're so busy, and you've looked tired recently."

With a slight frown, Mitsuki subtly checked to make sure her façade was still up on the nearest reflective surface; it was. The makeup was as perfect as always.

There was no point in trying to deny it. It was true. After all, Keiko wasn't the first person to tell her, and she most certainly would not be the last. Everyone in the village knew her, whether for good or for worst, but most people only knew her as the helpful hand wandering about. Already today, she'd made her morning run around the village, dropped off more food at the clinic for patients, and sold her meat and goods with Takeda at her side before coming over early for work.

It was never enough. She could never do enough to ease the constricting bands around her chest, pulling tighter and tighter until—

"Mitsuki?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, Mitsuki smiled, pulling the elegant bow tight and smoothing it down. The strained smile pulled at her face, feeling as fake as it probably looked, but she wore it just the same. She didn't mention the incorrect information she got from Toma. She _couldn't_ tell her she'd spent last night scouting around her house after the alarm caught her, waiting for ninjas to apprehend her. The weariness she felt dragged all the way down to her bones, her very flesh feeling heavy. It'd been like this for years now, the endless days blurring time along. Every time Mitsuki closed her eyes, the indescribable terrors startled her awake again.

Instead, Mitsuki did what she was good at: she deflected. "At this rate you really are going to make him think that you forgot. You're already running late, _Keikei-_ tan."

Flushing red again, Keiko quickly patted her side to make sure she had her bag before hurrying towards the door, unable to hide her grin at the prospect of her date. With her hand on the handle, she turned back in her best interpretation of a threat. It was cute. "And remember: Asoka will be by to pick up two dozen Snowdrops and Crocus in half an hour and Dai's picking up some Creeping Phlox at two. Don't work too hard now, ok? I don't want to come back and find you asleep."

Mock saluting, Mitsuki couldn't stop herself from getting the last quip. "Yes, yes. I remember. Whatever you do, try not to think too much about babies, eh, Keikei- _tan_?" A wink finished it.

Keiko's face comically turned beat red, rendering the look she shot back in response moot.

Mitsuki smiled brazenly.

As Keiko vanished, her smile slowly faded. Rubbing her eyes wearily, she leaned her head back against the wall. Weak. The weariness she felt down into her bones came from something more, a long miserable string of neglect and exhaustion.

Keiko looked back with a quick wave, and Mitsuki continued the lie: she was fine.

* * *

The chime on the door snapped Mitsuki from her thoughts.

"Irasshaimase!" she called warmly, drawing herself upright and sliding off the countertop without a sound.

A wiry woman entered, followed by a broad man who lingered in the doorway. With a quick glance, Mitsuki identified him as a ninja, a bodyguard or escort most likely, but clearly not one meant to hide in the shadows. The sword on his hip, along with the dark, simple clothing made it obvious, even if a person didn't notice his eyes sweep the entire room before folding his impressive arms.

The woman herself was much more petite, standing only a few inches taller than Mitsuki and rather lovely. Her dark hair was tied up in an intricate knot, secured by a comb with ribbon dangling down to accentual her slender neck. She was clearly upper nobility, both from the regal kimono decorated with small leaves and twisting branches, as well as her partly shaved eyebrows.

Making her way around the front counter, Mitsuki ducked her head in the way she'd been trained in another life. "Is there anything that I can help you with today …?" Even the shadow and husk of a soul could be useful she supposed.

"Yokkaku Sarutobi," the woman supplied.

"Ohayou gozaimasu, Sarutobi-sama." Mitsuki bowed low at the waist and offered a smile.

The woman barely blinked, far more interested in glancing around the shop with a peculiarly blank expression on her face. "You're accent is rather odd. Are you not native to the Fire Nation?"

Mitsuki froze.

A trickle of paranoia crept like icy shards up her spine as she reconsidered the porcelain doll in front of her. "You must have very keen ears, Sarutobi-sama," Mitsuki hedged carefully.

The woman nearly huffed, sparing a glance in Mitsuki's direction before turning back to scrutinizing the room. "Of course. Since I was little, I've been taught all of the delicacies of the Fire Nation and I know when I'm not looking at one of them."

The shock took a second to pass before Mitsuki's fists clenched at her sides.

Thankfully, Mitsuki had years of practice at maintaining a smile, though it was significantly more strained than before. "I'm _honored_ someone of such status would come to this humble shop."

Yokkaku didn't catch the hissing sarcasm, instead, smoothing out the front of her kimono. "I was under the impression that this was more than a flower shop." It took concentration not to frown. "The Hokage's wife herself told me I could find the best hair combs in the Fire Nation here."

Mitsuki blinked, temporarily caught off guard. _The Hokage's wife recommended us?_ _I didn't realize she had been in here._ Surely Keiko would have mentioned someone so important to the village coming in. Mitsuki hadn't even met the woman before, but she could still picture the Uzumaki woman in all her splendor; she'd been haunting all Mitsuki's dreams lately with glimpses of promises and terror.

 _What if the Hokage was able to tell the comb was made from chakra?_

Mitsuki brushed the thought away as fast as it came, along with the dozens other barraging her after. Paranoia was a deadly thing. It was almost enough to temporarily distract from the shallow marionette's careless barbs.

Mitsuki nodded. "Yes, we offer combs and other jewelry here as well."

Yokkaku's frown eased.

She gestured back to the side room where all of the jewelry was kept, but her eyes wouldn't drag away from the pristine stranger - the worst threats always came in unassuming packages. "All of the accessories are in the next room. Would you like assistance looking today, Sarutobi-sama?"

Yokkaku smiled, showing her perfectly, white teeth. "No, thank you."

Mitsuki nodded, bowing before stepping aside for the woman to head towards the back room. Regardless of what Yokkaku said, Mitsuki followed her. Mitsuki would never fall for such a blatant lie; her face twisted into something ugly the moment the words slipped from Yokkaku's lips.

The jewelry area was much smaller than where Keiko grew and tended the flowers. Despite the size, it was more than enough to hold multiple shelves of combs and jewelry, ranging from rings to necklaces. A panel of mirrors with two moving wings took up most of the space so someone could completely see the effect of whatever jewelry they tried on.

The best part of the entire place was the large window that Mitsuki opened earlier when she arrived. The fresh breeze from the sunny day was a welcome break from the rain the village had recently. It cast warm, natural light throughout the whole room.

As Mitsuki followed Yokkaku, the guard leaned heavily against the doorframe, sharp eyes following her. Mitsuki only spared him a glance out of habit, and even that might have been a little too suspicious.

Yokkaku trailed a hand over a silver comb, thumbing the spine of rubies curving into a bird. "Remarkable," she murmured to herself.

From anyone else, the unknown praise would have made her smile in pride, but Mitsuki couldn't care less about the opinion of someone only surrounded by beautiful things her entire life. One more wouldn't matter. Still, manner dictated elaboration: "You won't be able to find another like them. All of the gems are formed completely by hand, then bonded into the metal so they'll never fall out. That's why they have such a soft glow to them."

Yokkaku blinked, then regained her composure. "How is that done?"

Again, Mitsuki shoved aside the tingling suspicion in the back of her mind.

Mitsuki busied herself with carefully realigning some of the necklaces on the other side of the wall. "I've been told that it's a very complicated process that takes extreme chakra control."

It wasn't exactly a lie.

"I would like to try on a few to see how they would look."

Mitsuki nodded. "Of course. Please take a seat in front of the mirrors once you've picked some you like."

After Yokkaku went around and collected three different combs, Mitsuki gestured toward the cushioned stool in front of the long mirror. While it wasn't the most comfortable seat, it was light and easy to store. Mitsuki took a moment to look each comb over, studying the design and determining which style fit best. Clearly she was drawn towards rubies and opals, reminiscent of Uchiha colors.

Eyeing the intricate twisted knot on top of her customer's head, Mitsuki carefully followed the turns to see how exactly it had been secured. By the looks of things, it wasn't too complex. "Sarutobi-sama, would you mind if I temporarily unbind your hair in order to show you each comb?"

Yukkaku's perfectly slender neck arched as she turned to look over her shoulder, appearance as conflicted as her voice sounded. "Are you learned in the arts of styling?" The slight wasn't missed.

Mitsuki hid her grinding teeth behind a polite smile. "Of course."

Yokkaku eyed her a moment longer before facing the central mirror. "Very well." Her eyes never left Mitsuki in the reflection.

Mitsuki quickly lost herself within the woman's silky stands, unweaving the twist and removed Yokkaku's original ribbon and comb. Placing it gingerly to the side, she began creating elaborate bows and knots, specifically designed to emphasize the gems and spine of each comb. Her hands and arms moved in a flourish only taught to the one trained for show, like a geisha pouring tea. There was an art to everything in the world, succulent delicacies wherever anyone paid attention enough to seek out; hair was no different.

It was soothing.

"My, I must say I am very impressed. You are quite talented," Yokkaku complimented as she tilted her head to capture the full effect of the comb Mitsuki placed.

Mitsuki smiled, fighting the urge to shrug it off in favor of tipping her head slightly in thanks; a more polite and docious response to someone of such a high status could never hurt. "Thank you," she murmured, even as she began working in a flowing design for the next style.

Yokkaku allowed a moment of silence as she took in the second comb Mitsuki had diligently folded up into a crown with her long hair pooling below like a waterfall down her back. Whether or not she was impressed, her expression never changed from polite boredom.

"Where did you learn?"

Closing her eyes, Mitsuki imagined the salty air blowing through the window as she basked in the haze of the memories. She could practically feel the hot sunlight washing down as she sat behind the heiress of the Kenshin Clan, delicately and lovingly twisting her hair up to create hoops and waterfalls with deft fingers. As her eyes opened, the memory fell back into the dark recess of nothingness.

Mitsuki refocused on her movements, removing the comb and working on the next hairstyle. It was easy to come up with an answer that wouldn't really tell her anything at all. "I used to style for an heiress before coming here."

"A noble occupation. What could possibly convince a person to leave the safety and comfort of an heiress, I could never know."

The sardonic smile Mitsuki offered reflected only a little of the sharp pain she felt. "Oh, I'm certain she wouldn't want my assistance anymore, even if I could offer it." The words are bloody ashes in her mouth.

Yokkaku met her gaze through the mirror with a slight frown. "Pity. You said you weren't from the Fire Nation, so where exactly did you serve?"

Mitsuki paused after securing the last braid in place.

She glanced in the mirror, taking in her honey sun-kissed skin and oddly-bright, cerulean eyes, unable to see where the woman's surprise came from. People in this nation had lighter skin and darker eyes. Her coloring wasn't dark enough to match the northern nation people. While Yokkaku Sarutobi might know everything about the Fire Nation, it was apparent she knew little else if she couldn't tell Mitsuki hailed from the southeast. Even those who hadn't traveled could notice.

"Sarutobi-sama," a low voice cut in.

Yokkaku redirected her gaze in the mirror to look at her bodyguard while Mitsuki focused on returning her hair into its original twist, careful not to wind the long hair around her fingers too tight. She could see enough from the corner of her eye to notice the man seemed relaxed, hands far away any weapons.

"Yes, Jamba?" It was nice to know Mitsuki wasn't the only person cursed with hearing the slight annoyed lilt to her voice. Apparently, she was as frosty to those close to her as people underneath her nose. "What is it?"

"Senju-sama is headed this way."

"What!" the woman cried, almost pulling her hair from Mitsuki's grip as she whirled around. "Tobirama?"

Mitsuki froze, the woman's original ribbon raised in the air to finish securing the comb in place. Tobirama couldn't be coming here.

"Yes, Milady. He'll pass by the shop in a moment."

For a second, there was only panic. Choking on the tremor, Mitsuki swallowed, willing her fingers not to tug on the noblewoman's hair. Of course, the one man renowned for his sensing ability would walking by the flowershop when she was covering for Keiko, the one place a man like him would never have a reason to visit. Cursing mentally, Mitsuki's mind swirled at the possibilities.

He could be coming this way to check up on her, to sense out her chakra. Maybe he felt her when she'd broke into the Tower last night. Toma could have planted the information. Kami, she was an idiot for trusting the word of a lowly shinobi about two of the strongest men leaving the village. Before she'd even had the chance to get what she needed, sirens went off everywhere for opening a drawer. He felt her. He had to have.

The second passed. With a deep breath, Mitsuki forced herself to continue, redoing the delicate twist in the knot where it loosened as naturally as she could before reinserting the comb and securing it with the ribbon that trailed down the noblewoman's delicate neck. The lapse was only for a moment and her hands thankfully didn't tremble.

"Girl," Yokkaku snapped, eyes turning to pin her back down through the mirror.

 _Girl?_ Sure she was shorter than most women and a little too thin to have many womanly curves. But … _girl?_

Mitsuki frowned.

"Finish what you are doing quickly. There is no time to waste."

"Of course," she drawled, adjusting the ribbon back in place and stepping back as the formerly composed woman flew past the guard to the other room. He stepped to the side just in time to avoid a collision, clearly having done this before.

Mitsuki followed her at a much slower rate.

"Which flowers do you think he'd like more?"

Mitsuki paused for only a moment before her brain caught up. Tobirama. She was asking which flowers _Tobirama_ would like.

This time she couldn't hold back her snort. Tobirama, Hashirama's brother, one of the famous fighters during the war, legends of his prowess and speed terrified other lands, the white haired demon. Admittedly, Mitsuki had never spoken to him before, but she heard the stories of his abilities, as well as his critically acclaimed mind. It was no secret that he was a natural genius. Flowers didn't fit the masculine, strategic identity in her head.

Mitsuki stopped in the doorway as she watching Yokkaku darting around the flowers with a critical eye, holding all three of the combs she'd styled for the woman in case she actually decided to buy one of them. Mitsuki opened her mouth to shoot of a witty remark.

"He's here," the guard announced.

Yokkaku fluttered over towards the front door as the man in question strolled by the privacy tarps outside, looking as though he head every intention to pass. "Tobirama-kun!" Yokkaku called.

Mitsuki steeled herself safely behind the front counter, willing her heart to stop thudding in her chest. It fluttered and raced, screaming every paranoid and fragile fear racing around in her head. That he'd somehow know. That he'd recognize her from the Tower _any_ of the times she broke in. That he'd fight and kill and—

The small bell on the top of the door chimed delicately as Tobirama stepped in.

Mitsuki let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

 _Wow,_ Mitsuki thought, for some reason surprised as she got a good, up close look at him for the first time. Maybe it wasn't the first thought, or even the second, but he was … handsome.

Very much so.

Rather than the ceremonial battle armor he'd worn at the coronation a few days ago, Tobirama dressed simply in a dark blue shirt kimono, tied with a yellow sash and matching pants. Bandages covered his lower shins above ninja sandals, and a kunai pouch resting on his thigh, but it was decided more civilian than Mitsuki ever saw him. With his broad shouldered, muscular physique, he would never quite fit in with the people wandering the marketplace.

This close to him, Mitsuki could see that his hair wasn't really white. There was a silver sheen in it, something half a shade darker, but just as bright against his unusually pale skin which fell freely against his forehead without his happuri holding it back.

He wasn't a pale shade at all, like she'd thought at the coronation. Being so fair, Mitsuki thought everything washed out, but the reality of the fact was that it only emphasized the smallest variations. The lightness of his hair accentuated his fair skin, making it appear darker. The deep red of his eyes and warrior marks along his face stood out boldly, drawing emphasis towards the strong angles of his face. Everything from the natural frown of his mouth to the cutting stare of his vermillion gaze was cold and distant, beautiful in a feral way.

It was surprising, though maybe it shouldn't have been.

Staring. She was definitely staring.

Closing the door lightly, Mitsuki noticed how he quickly took in everything around the shop in a way only those who'd faced battle and death could. No detail was missed. For a solid second, his eyes assessed the guard in great detail, reading everything a killer needed to know. It sent a warning shiver down her spine, and she clung to her chakra control.

It didn't stop her from smiling as his eyes flicked towards her, lingering a second as he took her in. He frowned, eyes narrowing.

She swallowed down the flash of panic and gingerly set the combs against the counter to avoid fiddling with them. Despite the fact her skin was darker than most, coming from the sea, and her eyes were a startling brightness few others had, not much else to marked her as unique. He wouldn't recognize her from anywhere. _It doesn't mean anything,_ she assured. Outwardly, she held her smile, offering a faint bow of respect.

Eventually, he offered an infinitesimal nod of acknowledgement, eyes sliding to face the terror of a woman. "Yokkaku-san," he greeted politely. His face never changed.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Tobirama," Yokkaku continued. Instead of the detached and icy drawl she'd used before, now her voice came out in a coo of fine silk. Mitsuki blinked at her bold use of his given name without an honorific. "Perhaps you could help me with a conundrum."

"If I can."

His voice was deceptively low, a deep baritone that resonated someplace low in Mitsuki's chest. Something foreign clenched at the sound, and she shifted her stance warily at the chills racing down her neck.

His sharp eyes shot over towards her at the movement.

Mitsuki nearly flinched, going through the painful process of keeping her eyes lowered and a pleasant expression on her face. Old habits were going to get her killed.

From the corner of her eye she saw Yokkaku's painted red smile stretch wide over perfectly white teeth as she stepped around the flowerbeds with two stems in her hands. One held a red sweet pea, symbolic of departing after delicate pleasures, while the other cradled a pink tulip, representing the declaration of pure love. Approaching Tobirama, she swayed her hips enticingly and arching her neckline in the most pleasing way. "I was trying to decide which flowers I should buy for the manor. Perhaps you could help me pick?"

Mitsuki's head snapped over to stare at the ridiculous noblewomen smiling towards one of the strongest men in the village. A twisting gnarl of disdain rose up, nearly overtaking Mitsuki's features, but she shoved it down. _How presumptuous._

There was no way that someone like Tobirama would understand all of the meanings behind flowers. Even if he _did_ , to make him reveal his feelings around a stranger like her, as well as Yokkaku's own guard, was repulsive. Feelings themselves were gut-wrenching, confusing things. There was nothing pretty or sensitive about dragging them out in the public for everyone to stare.

"I would pick the tulip," he answered eventually, though his voice didn't betray any emotion or flocculation.

Mitsuki's eyes flickered over to his, surprised.

"Wonderful." Yokkaku gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, dripping with hope and manipulation. The only reason Mitsuki turned as her voice switched to address her was countless years of upholding tradition. "I would like one bouquet, if you'd please, as well as the second comb."

Mitsuki willed herself not to hesitate. It wasn't her place. "Of course, Sarutobi-sama."

Mitsuki tried not to look, she really did, but as Tobirama's narrowed eyes slid over to her in consideration, it was impossible not to stare at him in a bit of wonder. Perhaps it was the brief pause, or maybe a faint change in tone; regardless, it sent his chakra shifting subtly in the air.

Suddenly a thought struck her staring into his vermillion eyes and she couldn't stop the smile that pulled her face painfully wide.

Yokkaku wasn't picking ruby and opal combs because of any preference or relationship towards the Uchiha. They happened to match Tobirama's face _perfectly_.

Biting her lip, she walked over towards the tulips in order to grab a dozen for the bouquet and hold back the laughter that threatened her to tears. His gaze followed her the whole way, but she couldn't quite hold back the quiver of her shoulders. Kami, that was just too sad.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Tobirama. I didn't think that you would frequent these parts of the village," Yokkaku continued after a beat of silence.

He didn't comment.

Mitsuki grinned maniacally as the air started to shift slightly, and Yokkaku tried again. "After this, I was just planning on coming to see if you'd join me for lunch." There wasn't as much life in her voice, but she held it together remarkably well.

"Forgive me Yokkaku-san, but I have business with my brother to discuss some village matters. Perhaps another time."

As Mitsuki carried the flowers over towards the back counter to tend to them she only managed to contain her smile long enough to avoid getting caught by the noblewoman's crestfallen face.

"Oh … yes, of course. Another time then."

He nodded.

An awkward silence stretched out as the woman struggled to think of something else to say while Tobirama stood impassively. The air felt palpable with it.

Mitsuki glanced over for the barest second before taking pity - because it certainly wasn't out of her own curiosity. "How are the choosing of elders for your brother coming along, Senju-sama?" While the conversation switch was abrupt, Mitsuki didn't care enough for social etiquette to worry what it would mean. Besides, she told herself she was actually doing Yokkaku a favor by asking.

It'd been over a few weeks since she overheard them talking about it in the Hokage Tower the first time she broke in, and if anything, she hadn't read or heard rumors that suggested they were any closer to finding someone suitable for the position. Now that several other people around the village brought it up, asking wouldn't draw too much attention. It might even get her an answer.

Mitsuki glanced towards Tobirama distantly, the knife in her hand delicately trimming lower leaves off each flower. "I'm sure such an important decision must be hard."

His eyes burned in an unsettling way for such an impassive expression, but she held his gaze without flinching. "We are still looking at candidates. "

Humming, Mitsuki sheathed the flowers in a clear plastic and delicately placed them on top of the wrapped comb before informing Yokkaku of the total price. "Of yes! Of course," the woman blinked, reaching for her money pouch.

Mitsuki turned back towards Tobirama only to find him reappraising her closely. A shiver of warning shot down her neck. His voice rolled over her again in the same spine quivering tremble. "Are you interested in politics … ?"

Ignoring his inquiring tone, Mitsuki answered plainly. "Only when they're honest."

He blinked, an expression almost akin to surprise crossing his face before frowning again.

Before she could even think to explain further, a crash of wailing red snapped open the door and barreled in with the furious reprimands of a higher voice: "Ryuuta! I said slow down you idiot!" The adults in the room jerked out of the way, turning back just as the pinnacle of chaos rushed in.

Mitsuki only had a second to step out from behind the counter and crouch before the force of his small five-year-old body slammed into her at top speed, knocking her back into the countertop. Swallowing the yelp that threatened to escape, Mitsuki caught him with practiced ease, unable to avoid flinching at the resounding thud. It was harder to cradle Ryuuta's head where it wouldn't smash into her prominent collarbones, but somehow she managed even as her senses prickled in the back of her head. Only the years of training let Mitsuki's hand snap out like a viper to catch the tumbling vase of white lilies before a single drop of water fell.

Half a second later, Yuko appeared in the shop, furiously huffing and heaving with a frantic look in her eye. It changed into a frown the second she saw Ryuuta clinging miserably to Mitsuki's clothes, but whatever her thoughts where it was enough to snap her jaw shut.

Mitsuki blinked, shifting her body a little bit to better accommodate the sobbing child in her arms, as he trembled and heaved. "Mi-Mi-Mi-ch-chan!" he wailed. The words were barely comprehendible through all of the hiccups and spurts.

Right away a flood of explanations came pouring out: "I told him not to run in here, but I couldn't stop him after he tried—"

Holding up the hand still clutching the vase, Mitsuki stopped Yuko before she could get far. The girl quickly fell silent, shifting anxiously while working her hands at the sight of her adopted baby brother sobbing hysterically. For the first time it seemed like she noticed the other three people in the room.

Blushing furiously, Yuko offered a slight bow in Tobirama's direction, clearly recognizing him by the way her spine snapped ramrod straight. "S-Sorry," she stuttered.

Everyone stared in various stages of surprise as Mitsuki reached back to replace the vase where it had been. The silence was almost crushing. Lowering her head into Ryuuta's shoulder, Mitsuki closed her eyes, rubbing soothingly along his back while murmuring calming nothings into his hair. His hands tight grip on her sleeve squeezed harder and the sobs finally won out over whatever he was trying to say.

Careful not to meet anyone's eyes, she shifted Ryuuta onto her hip before standing. Already the wet salt of his pain had soaked through the fabric by her neck with snot and tears, but Mitsuki held him closer. Hushing him, she kept up the soothing rhythm rubbing his back and starting rocking slowly until he was lulled into a calmer state of mind.

"I'm sorry," Mitsuki apologized, sparing only a second to glance around and see Jamba's hand had fallen onto the hilt of his sword and Tobirama's stance had widened, most likely out of habit. She was careful not to hold his gaze any longer than necessary to check his reaction. "I hope they didn't startle you."

Tobirama stared.

Surprisingly, Yokkaku was the first to break the silence that'd fallen over the adults. "You have quite sharp reflects for someone running a shop," she complimented, staring wide eyed at Ryuuta.

Mitsuki offered her a tight smile before looking back down at Ryuuta again. It hurt inside seeing the shocked and assessing expressions boring the accusations and guilt like a nail in her head. "Watching kids will do that to you," she avoided smoothly. It wasn't a lie, but it certainly wasn't the reason her reactions were so sharp. She couldn't tell them that.

There wasn't really anything else she could say.

Mitsuki offered the woman an apologetic smile before picking up her flowers and comb from the counter one-handed to pass them to her. The step Yokkaku had to take to be close enough to reach looked painful.

Yokkaku quickly bowed in thanks and excused herself. Before taking Jamba with her, she paused alongside Tobirama. "Would you mind escorting me back to the manner? That is,"—she shot a glance back towards Mitsuki holding the nearly hysterical boy and then finally back up towards the stoic man's face—"only if the direction is the same you intended to head."

Tobirama continued to stare. Mitsuki made the mistake of glancing up, taking more time to sway Ryuuta into a lull, only to see his narrowed eyes pinned on her. A furrow appeared that made her hackles rise, but rather than say anything else, he nodded. "Of course."

Holding the door to let Jamba and the woman leave before him, Tobirama looked back, and Yuko quickly leapt out of the way of the adults, weaving her way through the flowerbeds to tuck herself beside Mitsuki. He didn't say anything verbally. In a way, he didn't have to. His eyes cut into her, reassessing and analyzing. It was a fight to keep her face innocent and relaxed, but thankfully it was a battle she fought daily and, really, it wasn't as hard as it seemed.

Then, finally, he looked away.

By the time the three left, Mitsuki had sunk down to the floor with Ryuuta still in her arms and leaned back against the counter, heart hammering viciously against her ribs. Bending her forehead onto his soft, red spiky locks, Mitsuki pulled him tighter. All of the sudden her chest felt too tight and something burned behind her eyes.

 _What have I done?_

Ryuuta cries eased as one arm clung to her.

She'd caught the vase.

No civilian would have been able to catch something that quickly from behind, let alone without spilling anything. To Yokkaku it must have looked like her hand moved faster than she could blink. To Tobirama…

She caught it in front of Tobirama.

With effort, Mitsuki pulled back, prying Ryuuta off her shirt enough to notice he was cradling one arm pitifully to his chest and the line of his forearm wasn't quite right. His fat blubbering tears weren't as bad as before, but hiccupping sobs kept him from getting out hardly anything more than a few words before he'd fall back into nonsense again.

Now that everyone else was gone, Yuko immediately launched into the explanation of how Ryuuta hurt himself trying to show a couple of boys in the village that he could be a ninja like them. Her voice droned in the background. There was something about a tree and trick as well as his arm, but the details swam. Somehow they'd found their way here, only to bump that damned flower vase over, and start this stupid, stupid ordeal.

 _Idiot._

She could have just ruined _everything._

Her hands felt along the bone, indeed finding it was broken, but the frustrated tears that swam behind her eyes weren't out of empathy.

Maybe that was the worst part.

* * *

(Bum, bum, _buuuuuuum!_ )

 **Translations/Explanations:**

 _konbu_ \- (also spelled kombu) seaweed given to an engaged couple to bring them numerous healthy children before the wedding

 _Tonkatsu_ \- a style of restaurant that is generally known to serve deep-fried pork cutlet served with some shredded raw cabbage and sweet sauce

 _Irasshaimase_ \- honorific to welcome someone (normally into a business) that shows respect to the customer instead of humbling the worker; essentially 'welcome to the store' or 'come on in'

 _Ohayou gozaimasu_ \- a formal way to say good morning instead of casually saying ' _ohayou'_


	7. Chapter 6

**Warning:** family drama, shifting politics, paperwork tombs, slight hero worshiping, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto's not mine sadly

 **Notes:** Sorry for the late post.  I broke my hand. My husband and I were tiling and I accidentally tripped him while he was carrying a carton of tiles in and it fell on my hand. So ... right now I'm hunting and pecking with my left-hand (non-dominant of course) to try and get this out for you guys. Sadly though, it means I'm going to have to miss at least the next update, maybe two since it's too painful to try and type. I'll definitely be back after that. I have all but the last five chapters or so of this story written up, but, yeah ... I'm hurt.

A huge thanks to my fantastic beta, Dimigex. Like before, translations and explanations are at the bottom, but there aren't many.

Updates normally every other Thursday evening, US time, but probably won't be for at least for a month this time T.T

* * *

 **Catching Lightning In A Bottle**

 **Chapter 6**

Mission reports came in a flurry of paperwork. Ever since the opening of the gates, people had rushed back and forth along the halls of the Hokage Tower, some escorting new citizens for housing placements, and others running documents to various departments. After weeks of listening to the bustle of growth a few floors below his feet, the mild chaos didn't phase Tobirama, but dodging bodies and towers of paperwork eventually wore on his frail patience.

Tobirama strode towards the stairs next to a younger shinobi—Genta if his memory served him correct—who looked far worse for wear as he attempted to pull out and explain various pages from the giant stack in his hands as they walked. Even as Tobirama attempted to escape the smile and greetings, people intercepted him every few steps with uncomfortable praises and thanks he'd never quite get used to.

Peace didn't suit him well.

Toka watched idly from behind, slightly more interested when the topic switched from housing developments to issues cropping up for the village. Two of the supply runs had been intercepted from the Land of Water, and another sighting of a suspicious character outside the village came in with time stamps, coordinates of the sightings, and a description of appearance. The man had been reported three times.

At least the building plans that Tobirama needed to begin his next project came in today.

Tobirama tried to listen. He did. Part of his mind actively stored the facts and information tumbling from Genta's mouth for later consideration, but most of his attention lingered over what happened hardly an hour ago. That same woman from the coronation moved like no citizen should move. If he hadn't been playing such close attention, he might have missed it all together, and the thought was far more unsettling than trade negotiations or supply shortages.

"—and the Akamichi Clan wanted to meet again to go over zoning before—"

Tobirama cut in. "Have the ninjas from the first gate patrol reported in yet?"

The man faltered for a second, nearly sending the stack of papers toppling before he corrected himself. A few citizens being lead out by a shinobi stared openly, but thankfully didn't comment besides a smile and greeting Tobirama's way.

Toka snorted mercilessly. A vivid blush burned across Genta's face and Tobirama had to repress the sigh that nearly escaped as he turned into a stuttering mess; getting work done with her around was nearly impossible.

While Hashirama utilized specific assistants around the Tower, Tobirama hardly contained enough patience to wait on one person to finish a job when the entire building could be put to use sporadically through the day. Toka preferred to say no one managed to survive his workload long enough to dare offer their individual services as Tobirama's assistant; death wishes were easy enough to come by on their own. _Completely inaccurate_ , but at least it meant no one person had to suffer Toka's vicious sense of humor.

"Uh, um, y-y-yes Tobirama-sama! They should have just turned in their reports upstairs."

Good. Reaching into the inner pocket of his shirt, Tobirama pulled out the mission scroll he'd prepared when walking back from dropping off the Sarutobi noblewoman, Yokkaku. "Deliver this to them before they leave. I have one more thing for them to look into today. Inform them that I expect a report on it as soon as possible."

"Yes, Tobirama-sama," Genta nodded, grabbing the scroll and adding it to his pile. "I'll head there right away."

When he didn't immediately leave, Tobirama turned back. "Is that all?"

He shifted a moment, nervous under the intent look. "Hashirama sent word that he would return tomorrow escorting the Aburame Clan Head."

 _Damn it._

That idiot. The Aburame delegates were supposed to arrive _today._ Meaning, Hashirama had to have stopped by their compound on his way to meet the daimyo when he should have already been halfway through his trip.

Tobirama scowled, realizing that he would be the one attending the meeting with the Senju Clan Elders tonight. A lot of their power was lost after his father's death, but the elders still wanted constant updates on the happenings of the village and clan, along with what was best for their people. Most annoyingly, they also felt it their civic duty to suggestthe best course of action in internal affairs. If they weren't stuffy, old geezers determined to look out for the Senju Clan opposed to the village, Tobirama might have been more inclined to listen. Hashirama had been trying to politely disband them since signing the peace treaty with Madara, but nothing he'd thought of would work without severely offending someone.

It wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Just annoying.

Perhaps he could send Toka in his stead…

Toka stood behind the two of them, looking every bit the ninja warrior she was on the battlefield even surrounded by all the people rushing by. Those passing by scurried faster at the sight of her absentmindedly toying with the decorative tail of her sword hilt, and Tobirama couldn't blame them. Even though she was Hashirama and Tobirama's second cousin, no one doubted her rise through the ranks as her own military prowess.

He snorted, quickly brushing the thought aside. Even though she was involved in a lot delicate matters around the village and had arguably been as active within the clan as he had, Tobirama knew sending Toka to speak with any of the elders would end cataclysmically. Whether destroying furniture or faces, Toka's rage wasn't selective. Something would be _demolished._ She had a temper when dealing with insignificant squabbles worse than his.

Plus, there wasn't a place in Konoha he could hide where she wouldn't hunt him down to beat him blue in the face for making her deal with them.

Tobirama dismissed Genta with a nod, and quickly turned towards the stairs to head up to his office on the third floor, Toka following on his heels. It wasn't as large or grand as Hashirama's, but it was comfortable, tucked back towards the end of the hallway in the quieter part of the building and littered with scrolls and maps of every nature, filling with bookshelves lining the walls. Even with the two of them—and reluctantly counting the piles of papers—there was a surprising amount of room left over without becoming claustrophobic.

Toka leaned back against the wall, dropping her façade of distant authority to examine her nails as soon as the door shut behind them. "I'm glad I'm not one of Hashirama's advisors," she drawled.

Tobirama rolled his eyes as he sat down, lifting a few papers to find his favorite brush to get started on the mound of paperwork for the day. Picturing Toka as a village advisor was frightening in the best circumstances. "You'd hate it," Tobirama stated pointlessly. Both of them already knew that.

Huffing as if she was actually offended—though her smile clearly negated the fact—Toka pushed off the wall to flop into the only unoccupied seat in front of his desk. Paperwork covered the other.

"You saying I can't handle dealing with a few reports?"

Dealing with them was precisely the problem. "What do you want?" Tobirama asked instead. Not that he wasn't happy to see his favorite cousin, but Toka never stopped by unless there was something to say.

She waved away the question flippantly, making room to lean forward on his desk and rest her chin in her hand. Tobirama scowled as the shift nearly knocked over a pile of paperwork, but Toka offered a cheeky smile in return. "Can't I visit my cousin?" she asked, cheek quirking up in a charming sort of way.

Tobirama paused in his search to stare.

She snorted. "Jeez, I just thought I'd stop in and see if you were still alive with everything going on. I know Hashirama and Madara didn't address all the little technicalities of living together in the original treaty, but I haven't seen you since the coronation." A pain throbbed in Tobirama's head thinking about all of the constant meetings and amendments she was referring to, but he was more concerned with the sly look that twinkled in Toka's eyes as she leaned closer. "I've heard you should be out flirting with all the noblewomen around town."

Tobirama flinched. It was a minor thing, but with eyes as sharp as Toka's, the infinitesimal cringe sang aloud.

Discussing any lack of love life he might have was _not_ something he wanted to do, especially when so many zoning reports needed signed, several dozen missions had yet to be classified, and he still hadn't found the immigration report of that woman after going through every new form since the gates opened. While Hashirama needed him to use his position to strengthen village ties by marrying a noblewoman, it didn't mean marriage took any sort of priority. His love life certainly wasn't something Toka should stick her nose into, at least not right _now_ where there was a perfect idiotic man ready to follow her into the face of the sun.

Besides, while there had been a couple girls growing up that'd drawn his eye, Tobirama didn't have time to pursue any type of romantic relationship intently. It didn't make him _deficient_.

Unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a sigh, Tobirama turned back to look for his pen, stoutly ignoring the insinuation. If he could avoid it with Mito, he could definitely avoid talking about it with Toka.

He could practically _hear_ her grin.

"Leave," he grumbled. "I have work to do."

She laughed, vicious and satisfied, and he knew better than to think she'd listen; she'd never bothered to before.

Toka could handle herself politically—definitely physically—but unlike Hashirama who didn't always have the suspicion for leading, or Tobirama who sometimes lacked the sensitivity of emotions with others, Toka simply didn't care. If there was something wrong, she'd fix it. If she knew a better way to do it—even if it _really wasn't_ —she'd do it herself, other's opinions be damned. If there was something she wanted to know, she found out.

Dedication at that level spelled trouble more than admiration.

Tobirama scanned over the stacks until he found the towering pile of men, women, and children who had immigrated to the village since the gates opened to the public. The brush with a worn grip poke out from where it tucked under one of the bottom pages, and despite his exasperation with the situation, Tobirama almost smiled. Tidiness was never his strong suit, despite everyone thinking it should be. Toka learned to accept it. More often than not his brain was too occupied to really worry about keeping things pretty as long as they were accessible. Too many people connected the words _genius_ and _protégé_ to organized.

Someone would probably have a heart attack if they ever saw his desk spotless.

Toka stared, visibly unimpressed, and he could feel her watching him glance endlessly at scroll after scroll. Occasionally he shuffling things around, hoping she'd take the hint to leave, but he never heard her shift a muscle, let alone over him the peace he needed to sort the tumbling thoughts in his head. Growing up, he had always been more into books and jutsu than running about and playing—something Toka vocally contributed to the strict rules his father forced on him at such a young age—but it'd been several years since things had grown this complicated this quickly, even when Hashirama and Madara fought. That meant _a lot._

Ducking out of situations for work only worked on the people who didn't know him well enough to realize there was _always_ something to do. Toka knew better.

"Little cousin," Toka goaded, sitting back and moving her naginata across her lap to balance it along a finger. Tobirama froze at the nickname. It _never_ brought good things. "What a surprise. Avoiding the problem again. Wouldn't you rather be out in the sun?"

Not even looking up, Tobirama scowled. "Shouldn't you be out terrorizing Mori?"

Considering Toka was the type of woman to find a man strong enough to get decked in the face and stupid enough to compliment her form afterwards, his regard of one of the Senju's best genjutsu wielders was under serious reconsideration. Clearly the head of interrogation was a masochist. The two had been dancing around each other for months, finally settling into some queer rendition of a relationship. From Toka's toothy grin, Tobirama figured it was successful, but it was the last thing he wanted to hear about. That was, as long as Mori didn't make the mistake of challenging Toka to any type of competition. _Ever_.

Toka's eye flicked up to him with a glare. "We both know I have enough experience to handle _Mori_ , but I rather doubt you've amassed enough romantic experience to woe several women without me noticing."

Dropping his brush into the inkwell, Tobirama pressed a hand over his suddenly flushed face and protested, " _Toka._ "

As merciless as ever, she shrugged and pushed further. " _Someone_ had to make sure you don't die a shriveled up, blind shrew. Honestly, it's not looking too promising at the moment."

To those who had only seen her on battle they might mistake Toka as the uptight, impossibly haughty kunoichi in blue-grey armor. What they couldn't see outside of battle was that not only was she haughty, but she was also _vicious_ in an antagonizing pestering way of _dear Kami,_ please _just leave me alone_. Still, they were cousins and friends, bound together by shared suffering and a sheer bloody-minded stubbornness that wouldn't let either of them lie down and die. Sadly.

Lifting her sharp chin triumphantly, unconcealed mirth danced in Toka's amber eyes as she pushed. "Well, _little_ cousin?" Her sword still perched, perfectly balanced on her finger, then wobbled faintly as she switched the finger it rested on.

Tobirama bristled at her insinuation. She'd never forget when he was an awkward only being a few months older, she sure acted like it meant the wisdom of the world and every privilege fell to her shoulders. _He_ was the _God of Water,_ damn it.

"Was there an actual question in there somewhere?" he asked boredly. His voice came out a little too clipped for his liking, and he frowned, promising to check it.

A few papers fluttered to the ground in a spark of chakra stirring the air. Despite Toka's status as the third strongest among the Senju, Tobirama almost forgot how easy it was to get under her skin. Most people would have missed the nanosecond crackle of snarling energy before it vanished. Tobirama glanced at the mislaid pages sadly before huffing out a breath and grabbing them.

Lifting a high arched eyebrow, Toka stared in a challenge.

For a second, Tobirama ignored her. Perhaps if he hadn't been working and trying to focus on reading all of the minutely packed names and housing assignments he could have overlooked her heavy gaze staring patiently at him, like viper prepared to strike. However, he _was_ working and trying to focus. By the time he read the same line twice, he finally sighed. "What, Toka?"

"Mito has been worrying about you again." The comment makes him pause, sucking in a breath—because Toka was probably one of the only ones who _wouldn't_ consider the sound a declaration of him dying—and she watched him closely. As his older cousin who'd seen and helped him grow up considerably over the years, Toka was finely tuned to almost everything about him. Tobirama didn't try to hide anything because of it. Ever since they had first started going out on missions, she'd held his farewell letters, saved in case he failed to return, and he'd held hers.

He knew she would be able to read any lie he told too easily.

Before she could actually ask a question, Tobirama cut in. "She should worry more about her husband," he muttered, switching to find the scrolls detailing the future plans for the next round of buildings to be created; they would be easier to skim.

Toka's other brow raised to meet the one that Tobirama refused to see. "She's under the impression that you are either trying to work yourself to death to avoid marrying any of the noblewomen or secretly harboring feelings for some mysterious person." This time Toka did smile, and it was full of the knowing amusement that spelled out certain misery for him. "Though I'm inclined to believe the first one. You never were good with women."

Glaring at the barb, he ignored her, mindful not to reseal any of the scrolls more intently than he normally would have. There was no chance she would get the satisfaction of feeling his chakra flux.

The silent treatment didn't deter her. "You can check for yourself if you don't believe me. She's probably locked back at the house fretting about you now." Her face pulled into some semblance of a grimace. "Pregnancy isn't doing anything to stop her."

"She isn't _locked_ at her house," Tobirama quipped immediately.

Toka sent him a deadpan look which he stoutly ignored.

Regardless, he felt the need to clarify. "You know that Hashirama is worried about her working herself too hard this early into the pregnancy after last time. Besides,"—attuning for a moment, he frowned, realizing that Mito's chakra actually seemed rather … slow compared to the usual swirl it had—"she's not worried at all."

"You just checked didn't you?"

Tobirama frowned, not wanting to admit to it. While he hadn't thought anything about checking when he'd done it, something about the way she accused him made him feel like she thought she won. Hesitating for only a second, he glared in the most convincing way he could.

Rolling her eyes, Toka let out a huff. "Mito said that you were still mad about the whole thing and as much as I love spending some time with her, it was annoying to listen to her worry over you the entire time."

Now, that would be surprising. Tobirama couldn't actually picture Mito saying anything along those lines. She was far too practical and kind-hearted to share her own concerns with other people, to burden them unless relevant and vital. "Really?" Tobirama hummed in his deep baritone, completely unfooled.

Waving a dismissive hand in the air, Toka elaborated, "'Frustrated and uninterested' were, I believe, the exact words." Before Tobirama could point out the difference, Toka plowed on. "Regardless, you should be out there surrounding yourself with beautiful woman, _not_ sitting in here doing your idiot brother's paperwork. I know delegates from the Yamanka, Sarutobi, _and_ Aburame clan are all here to finalize their joining."

"The Aburame aren't here yet," Tobirama corrected automatically, knowing full well she had to have heard the man report it to him hardly five minutes ago. "They're coming with Hashirama."

"And the other two?" Her raised eyebrow was condemning.

Tobirama wanted to tell her that he had actually walked Yokkaku Sarutobi home the other day for the _second time_ , but when he opened his mouth to say something, the image of dark auburn hair and vivid cerulean eyes popped into his mind, derailing everything. _That woman,_ Tobirama thought, frowning out one of the windows on the side wall. She alerted every warning system in his very being without actually doing anything wrong. There was something strange about her, decidedly unsettling. Perhaps it was her non-civilian reflexes despite not having any chakra signature around her—chakra alone wasn't too alarming considering people needed to fight to live, but the way that she'd avoided giving her name and lied about her skill certainly was alarming—or maybe he was bothered because out of the entire crowd of Konoha citizens she'd stood out at the coronation. Tobirama knew instinctively that it was something else. She had no chakra presence, none at all.

 _Everyone_ had a chakra presence.

The only other situation like that was during the last break in. Complete emptiness.

Through Yokkaku, Tobirama had been able to find out that she had incredible talent for such an unassuming shop. She'd served an heiress from a distant land, most likely Water Nation considering her complexion, though Yokkaku had realized with a frown that she'd never said where she was born.

Serving an heiress could explain her ability. Most people around royalty had to be able to defend against attacks. Plenty of people migrating to the village had some affinity for chakra control, but it didn't explain why Tobirama couldn't detect her energy signature at all. It also didn't explain why he couldn't find her immigration form. There had to be paperwork somewhere about her getting into the village and receiving a housing assignment. Only Senju and Uchiha lived here before then.

It was quite a journey from the Water Nation to even the outskirts of the Fire Nation, let alone where Konoha was built. Even the closest islands were several days away for an ordinary civilian. Few people dared to travel so far with constant tension between clans.

Cutting straight down to it, traveling that far alone was deadly, especially for a woman.

Which meant she might be worse.

 _A killer._

"Tobi?" Toka called. Her voice lifted, and Tobirama realized he'd been staring off into the distance longer than he thought.

Blinking back to the present, Tobirama gave no other sign that he'd drifted off. Studiously ignoring his cousins concern, he quickly flicked through his memories for her last words. "Someone needs to make sure the village remains strong. Hashirama's never been one for paperwork."

Toka chuckled at that, but Tobirama could tell it wasn't as free as usual. She didn't miss the way he looked off, or how his vermillion eyes glazed in thought. "What were you thinking about?"

Keeping his voice as level as possible, Tobirama slightly tipped the scroll he was reading for the most convincing lie. "Building plans."

Not the best lie, but perhaps a believable one. He risked a lazy glance at his cousin's face to see if she'd bought it, but her eyes were still narrowed in consideration.

Suspicions like this were dangerous. With an intruder busting into the Tower, supply shipments going missing, and an unidentified person outside the village walls possibly spying, Tobirama needed to be sure. He needed to know without a doubt _._ It was too early to tell anyone like Toka. She had a way of bulldozing to find any bit of information necessary, and every time Tobirama told her about one of his concerns in the past, the entire compound flipped over until she fixed it. While flattering—he supposed, though it wasn't the first word he'd pick—it drew attention. For Hashirama's sake, he was trying to keep this a little closer to the chest; one alarm going off was already bad enough.

She shot him a deadpan stare, and Tobirama muttered a muted curse.

"Are you going to talk, or do I need to remind you of the last time I found out you were keeping secrets from me?"

Tobirama had only been six at the time. He and Hashirama had a rare day off from training with a lull in the war, and the two took off towards the river basin where water seeped out from an underground crevice in the foundation of a cliff. Hashirama got the idiotic idea to climb the rock face despite all of Tobirama's warnings. Halfway up Hashirama had grabbed a loose stone. The idiot started spiraling towards the ground, and Tobirama panicked, knowing he wouldn't make it in time. All of the sudden, a wave appeared and swept his older brother back into the pool with a rush and crash of trembling power. When Hashirama broke the surface, sputtering and gasping air, he turned and found Tobirama staring at his hands in shock.

The mistake happened when Tobirama told Hashirama to be quiet until he could figure out more about what he had done. Even that young, he'd known that he'd discovered his chakra affinity, but wanted to make sure and practice before telling Butsuma. While a concerned father, Batsuma was first and foremost the leader of the entire clan, dutifully bound to use any and all advantages against the Uchiha if it meant saving more lives. Having another ninja with a chakra affinity at such a young age would certainly have meant hours of training and bloody battle against dangerous opponents. Once he made his older brother swear to keep his secret, Tobirama hid his abilities from everyone. Including Toka, arguably his best friend at the time.

Needless to say, Toka hadn't been happy when she discovered him practicing secretly by the river alone. In fact, she'd been so _unhappy_ that she'd nearly sent him to the infirmary. Even now, she never failed to bring it up whenever there was something Tobirama didn't want to share.

Lately, there had been a lot of things he hadn't shared.

Running a hand through his shaggy hair, Tobirama sighed, recognizing Toka wouldn't let him get any more work done until she'd found out, the nosey witch. "There was another break-in at the Tower last night. That makes one a week for the last three weeks," he hedged, trying to ease into the situation.

"What?" Straightening up, Toka shifted into the military presence she had during battle, naginata dropping back into her lap with a soft clank. "Why wasn't I informed about this? Do you think it's the same person each time? One or a group?" After a beat, her eyes narrowed with a snarl. "Was that what caused the alarm a few days ago? An intruder?"

Closing his eyes, Tobirama nodded. "We announced it as a mistake to keep people from worrying. Hashirama wants to keep things quiet for now, and everyone involved has been ordered to stay silent on the matter, but right now, yes, we think it's one person."

"But _why_ —"

"Which _I_ support," he cut off, already regretting bringing this up. Leveling her a hardened gaze, Tobirama continued, "If any of the clans coming into the village were to find out that we couldn't handle one intruder, then it would destroy any trust in Hashirama as a leader, as well as the ninja protecting them. No one would follow the strength of the village."

Folding her arms, Toka leaned back. "It's still not a good idea to hide it from everyone. When it comes out—and these things _always_ come out somehow—then it's just going to look like the village is keeping secrets."

To ease his own mind, Tobirama paused a second to focus outward, checking for any chakra presence lingering too close. This conversation wasn't going to be a quiet one. He could tell.

 _No one. Good._

"This was only the fourth time we've noticed someone had been in the building unauthorized. Each time, nothing was taken, and no one was hurt." Tobirama sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk, mindless of the scrolls that rolled in front of him. Absently he watched one nearly tip off the edge, but a second passed and it steadied. "Somehow they managed to get through Mito's fuinjutsu," he explained, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He still didn't know how either.

Toka sat back with a thump, shocked. "They were able to make it all the way to the lower vaults without anyone catching them? I thought Mito set that up herself."

"She did," Tobirama answered. "And, just last week, they set off the alarm for the sealed scrolls on level two."

Toka's frown soured. "Isn't that where Hashirama sealed the Scroll of Seals? Along with the negotiation records and treaties for the entire village..."

He didn't need reminded. Really, he didn't. The last few weeks he'd done nothing but chase loose ends and phantom possibilities of what this person might want. Maybe an assassination or sabotage. Possibly selling information. Now that there was someone who might be responsible...

Tobirama shook his head with a weary sigh.

He needed a drink.

Biting the tip of her thumb absently, a habit she'd developed whenever she thought hard, Toka hummed for a deep moment. "So why keep this from other shinobi? Wouldn't it be better if they kept their eyes open for anyone suspicious?" Her gaze fell to the ninja roster for Uchiha, Senju, and the clans that had already migrated to the village, one of the many stacks he'd been shifting through regularly. "At least the sensors. Make a net and catch them when they make a move."

It was the same thing he thought too. During the coronation, sensors and Uchiha's had been stationed strategically around the entire village, all looking for the slightest oddity. No one had made a move. As much as he tried, he couldn't get it out of his head that the woman had stood in the coronation, watching the entire time. It was too much of a coincidence. Too unlikely. Things didn't happen that way in reality for people to overlook, but Tobirama knew an accusation wouldn't be enough.

Outside of her, there were only three options remaining once he broke it down. The intruder knew of the enhanced security and didn't act, meaning there may be a traitor tipping information. Somehow they managed to slip in, despite all the extra safeguards, which would require a jutsu Tobirama had never seen before. Or, they were after Hashirama. Each option was worse than the last.

Even though there were only four reported cases of the intruder managing to get into the Tower, Tobirama believed that it had been happening for a while now. Someone with the ability to come and go as they pleased had to be using a technique that concealed chakra networks within the body.

A frightening possibility.

Tobirama sighed. "The only thing that makes any sense is that the intruder is trying to either assassinate Hashirama or unearth information that could undermine the village. So far, there hasn't been any attempt to break in while Hashirama has been out of the village, that we know of, but until we find out more about what was going on he wanted to keep things quiet. The intruder hasn't placed any traps or jutsu. They're just coming and going. For now, everything in the Tower has been sealed and protected. The only thing left to do is wait for them to try again."

Toka frowned. "We can't let them keep breaking in. Whatever they're after, or _whomever_ they're after, they'll get it soon if we don't do anything."

 _Kami,_ he knew. He'd even been there twice while it happened and he couldn't do anything. At this rate, it was only a matter of time. The very thought that someone could be targeting his brother, the only one he still had, and he might be helpless to do anything… the thought was _terrifying_.

Maybe telling Toka would be a good idea. Someone flipping boulders could flush something out, anything that might help, and if this woman really was who he thought, then he needed all the eyes and ears he could risk.

Hesitating a moment, Tobirama met Toka's brown eyes. Without her battle armor, she was softer, a change he'd only started to get used to, and when considering the change that her easier smiles might go away, there wasn't a choice at all. "I think I found the person responsible."

The admittance didn't feel nearly as good as Tobirama expected, but it was already out in the air between them. An explosion of rage or crackle of energy didn't shatter the floor. No flinch betrayed a temper. He studied his cousin's eyes, waiting for the tick.

Unexpectedly, Toka frowned. "You're not sure?"

That certainly wasn't what he thought she'd latch onto.

"I don't have proof," Tobirama muttered, slipping back into his thoughts and reclining in his seat. "Right now, one of the morning guards is looking into her, but if she is the intruder, she's probably covered her tracks too well for him to find anything."

"A kunoichi, huh?" Toka hummed, staring down towards the floor in thought. "Probably an infiltration mission from a clan then. Maybe undercover work."

Likely. Most clans sent out kunoichi for long-term undercover missions since fewer people expected a woman as the source of destruction. He didn't understand why not if people took time to think. Regardless, if she was undercover, every relationship she'd built in the village served a purpose to get her towards her goal, shogi pieces to manipulate and alter the playing field as she saw fit.

His mind flashed back towards the boy who'd ran into her arms with a cringe. Using kids ... he couldn't even fathom.

It was _despicable._

Clenching his fists, Tobirama took a deep breath to calm his temper. Children had no right to be involved in battle or war. The memories of his own family, his own brothers fighting and dying were still too fresh to drown in a wave of icy rage.

 _Breathe._

Toka shifted at the unmistakable fluctuation of Tobirama's chakra. Even as cousins, feeling murderous intent in the air set any decent ninja work their salt uneasy. Offering a apologetic sigh, Tobirama massaged the bridge of his nose in irritation as he thought aloud. "Everyone she talks to needs to be looked into as well, to make sure there are no other intruders. Any guards, patrols, buildings, leaders or other shop owners are the biggest concern. With all of the clan heads and diplomats, there are a lot of people with power." As a store owner, that alone could take _weeks._

Toka raised an eyebrow. "Won't looking into one person draw a lot of attention?"

Tobirama waved off her concern. "I'm having all of the vendors looked into at the village, starting with section 4B. With all the people coming to Konohagakure now, it needed done. No one will think twice about it, and if there is anything suspicious about the store she runs, I'll know."

"But you don't think you'll find anything?"

Tobirama studied Toka's hard gaze, weighing the consequences before admitting, "No. I don't."

No one needed to say looking into things would only tip her off. After revealing her abilities by catching that vase, Tobirama knew she'd be paranoid about anything unusual. He would have been in her place. If his brother's life really was at risk, well, it was a chance he had to take.

"Do you know her name?"

Toka's question snapped Tobirama out of his thoughts again. This time, he didn't try to hide it. Seeing the determined look on Toka's refined features was more assuring than he'd ever admit, knowing she understood the risk.

"Mitsuki."

Thank Kami Yokkaku got it from her—and was so dead set on earning his affection that she didn't question him asking about a civilian worker—because he still remembered how she hadn't answered when he'd inquired. Most likely on purpose. Thinking about that brought up it's own set of problems; asking about the elders of the village wasn't something regular people brought up. He didn't get her last name, but assuming she was from the Land of Water, it was unlikely it'd be a clan he knew well. All of the recent records of civilians and ninja alike coming into the village loomed in front of him as the first step to this puzzle.

Toka nodded, slipping her naginata back into the belt around her waist. "And you're think she's the one breaking in?"

Plenty of people came to the village looking for a new start. It was no secret. Murderers, thieves, orphans, widows: everyone wanted a taste of peace and prosperity. Tobirama knew the warring era made everyone do things they regretted. The demons eating away at his closet were probably greater than most.

Mitsuki wasn't another victim.

"Toka," he began, for once unsure of his words, "she has no chakra."

Alarmed, she stared. "What?"

"The first time I saw her was at the coronation. She didn't have any type of chakra presence. Then, again, at the flower shop; there was nothing."

Things like that didn't _happen._ According to science and nature, she should be _dead_. It was a black hole where something should have been, a blank space that the energy of life should have filled. A ghost. Out of everything Tobirama had ever seen and faced, it was the most unnerving ability he'd encountered. It was the exact same feeling the night someone snuck into the Tower undetected when he, Hashirama, and Madara had all been sitting _right there._

Toka shifted, nibbling on her thumb again in thought. "Are you sure it wasn't a fluke?" Looking him over, her concern made something in Tobirama bristle, but she asked anyway. "You still can tell what people are feeling, right?"

"Of course!" Tobirama snapped. "I just checked on Mito."

Gloating victory flashed in Toka's eyes, and Tobirama groaned, dropping his head into his hand at the sneaky little witch. Damn, it was too early to deal with this.

"Toka, this is serious," he groaned.

"You don't think I know that?" she snapped, and thankfully her temper seemed hotter than her urge to gloat—it had always been the easier of the two to deal with if he was being honest. "It's not like I know what it's like to feel when someone smashes their finger or giggles miles away."

Tobirama took another deep breath. "If you're not going to help, leave."

Afterall, Hashirama would want evidence before he could make a move. The only thing more foolhardy than his insane devotion to Madara, was his astounding faith in every citizen within the entire village, histories and pasts be damned.

Suddenly standing, Tobirama watched Toka stalk over towards the window, staring out at the people passing by. Her entire body pulsed with unrest.

"What do we do first?"

Smiling despite himself, Tobirama leaned back. Toka always stood by him. As infuriating and insufferable as she could be, there was never a sliver of a doubt that she would pull through.

As she turned, Tobirama quickly schooled his expression, not wanting to get caught having any sort of sentimentality, but by her raised eyebrow he figured it was a lost cause.

"I've already sent out a few trustworthy ninja to look into her as a vendor along with a few other shops in the area," he began, falling back into the facts that ran life. "They should report back by the end of the day. I've sent Idake and Homorunoshi to tail her and report anything suspicious. Meanwhile, I'm planning on double checking the ninja rosters and paperwork of all recent immigrants into the village since the gates opened."

Which reminded him, he needed to check in on the hospital. There hadn't been any supply requests for a while now, and it was only one more thing on the long list to look into. Since the last reported break in the incoming mission desk was tampered with all paperwork coming into the Tower had been shifted and rearranged in different locations to attempt to throw off the intruder's goal. Someone probably lost them or buried them under one of the various mountains littering his room. As he glanced towards his active paperwork pile for the day, the stack already multiplied into something horrendous.

Eventually, he wanted to get to Mito and ask about the comb Hashirama got her for their anniversary. If his memory served him, he'd bought it from Mitsuki's shop and it might be as good a place to start as any. Once he finished dealing with all of the clan business and classifying the mission requests they'd gotten in, then he could make another check through recent paperwork of those that'd come into the village. With the nobles, training, and all of the paperwork a headache already pressed in at the sheer thought of the stress.

A noise told him Toka had managed to cross the room again, plopping back into her chair while he was lost in thought, and it was mildly concerning. Mercifully, she didn't point it out, and it might have been one of the first times she didn't. "You do know that a lot of people have come into the village, right?" she said. "That's hundreds of forms."

He leveled her a blank stare.

Toka sighed, pouting as she eyed the stacks of paperwork on his desk in dread. "You're lucky you're my favorite cousin."

Despite everything, Tobirama laughed. The brief joy carried through him, maybe pulled with the pressure and stress, but it brought a smile regardless.

Toka's mind visibly spun, dropping the pieces into place with a frown. "Hashirama doesn't know about any of this does he?"

"No," Tobirama grinned, and the look on her face was worth all of the work.

There was nothing Toka hated more than keeping secrets.

"You're rotten."

He shrugged, not bothering to hide his smile while letting the comment slide and pulled the next stack of papers forward. With any luck, a day from now the intruder would be caught, Hashirama would be back, and Tobirama could finally get a good night's sleep.

Maybe.

* * *

 **Translations/Explanations:**

 _Scroll of Seals_ \- When Toka mentioned the Scroll of Seals, that's a specific scroll. It's the same one Naruto first stole at the beginning of the serious that holds every jutsu and technique developed for the wars, sealed up where unwelcome eyes won't find them.

 _naginata_ \- there's two variations of _naginata's_ , one for men - heavier - and one for women - smaller - back in the feudal Japan era; a sword on a pole essentially with one blade edge

* * *

I'd love to hear all your thoughts on the story so far: pacing, characters, developments, etc. All you're reviews make me smile. Sorry again it'll be a while until the next update.


	8. Chapter 6 point 5

**Warning:** mad scientist talk, unknown curses, gross manipulation of feelings, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto's not mine sadly

 **Notes:** First, thank you for everyone still reading and following my story. Truely. You're amazing and I appreciate every favorite and follow and _especially_ review that I have gotten in my painful absence.

Second, I'm sorry it took so long to post again. You know how bad luck strikes in threes? Well, I broke my hand, got in a terrible car crash which required extensive surgery and prevented me from writing, and getting terribly sick. In the accident, my left high up to my fifth rib was crushed and I couldn't lift my arm for almost a month without pain. A semi hit a car into my driver door when they tried pulling out without looking. I know as a reader you don't want to hear about excuses, which I do apologize for again, but I want to make sure that you all know that this story will be finished. I already have all but three chapters written out on our long journey now, and am only making edits, improvements, and working with my glorious beta, Dimigex, to give you the absolute best this story can be.

However, with that said, I'm going to have to change how often I update. Due to med bills, I've taken a few more shifts at work, meaning writing will be a bit slower. I hope you don't give up though because everything finally getting to the good part.

Like before, translations and explanations are at the bottom, but there aren't many.

Updates should be the last Thursday evening of the month until I get things under control again, US time.

 _ **THIS IS A SHORT** **CHAPTER**_ \-  very important to the storyline \- _**UNTIL** **MY BETA AND I FINISH PERFECTING THE NEXT ONE FOR YOU. IT'S UNEDITED, BUT I WANTED TO GIVE YOU LOVELIES SOMETHING.**_

* * *

"Hideyoshi?"

The tentative call was enough to make him pause, hand resting lightly on the compound microscope handle. With his back hunched in consideration, Hideyoshi debated the consequences of not answering, but he knew Misaki would only worry until she gathered the courage to stomach his lab. Handling a queasy woman gagging at every little thing pressed his reserves of patience. Besides, his back hurt from curling around his microscope too long.

Reluctantly he let out a sigh, straightening up and quickly going through the motions of restoring the vein samples he'd been studying to resist decay. Putrefaction already started breaking down the proteins and the cohesiveness between the tissues of the organ samples. Much longer and the samples would start to liquidate or grow infested. If he could just isolate—

"Can you hear me?"

Right.

Hideyoshi began packing up the delicate samples back into the embalming chemicals. The samples were by far inferior to the last few subjects he'd collected, but it was to be expected with a body over a month; the liquefied organs and the putrid smell of rotten eggs from the sulfuric gas were quick signs. By now his nose was desensitized by the stench. All of the natural bacteria that used to fight off infections were already breaking down and eating the body from the inside out.

They probably wouldn't be of any help, honestly. Without the organs, there was already little else to collect samples of. A week after death the skin began to blister. A light touch could make it fall off, and without even that, the only things to look at were the muscle and tendon samples. Already he'd gone through hundreds of other bodies searching for a way to halt the creeping decay of his own chakra network, but nothing had worked better than the original seals he'd placed to hinder the progression.

If a fresh body didn't come in soon, he'd have to press plans forward.

Ideally working on living bodies would be more productive: more room to work with, a broader range of experiments at his fingertips, and possibly a chance for some cross genetic engineering.

The last thing he needed was to lose more samples because of Misaki's interference. Losing anything that might be valuable was out of the question.

He eyed the last sample he'd taken of his own flesh, stared, and finally threw it away. Thinking about the receding veins was hard enough without seeing it. In four more months, he predicted over three-fourths of his chakra would be gone, unable to recover forever.

By the time he'd finished backing things up—damn, were the surgical gloves always this hard to get off?—and turned around, he could already see the steel door to his work area hesitantly cracked.

"What is it, Misaki?" he sighed.

The door cracked open, letting the light flint off her sandy brown hair. Misaki might have been a rather beautiful woman in a different age, but instead, everything about her looked nearly plain. Blue eyes almost bright, but too grey to really shine. Long hair too faded to really be a luscious chestnut brown. A dimpled smile too thin to take his breath away. Nothing close to the beauty who lit the stars in the sky and stole the breath straight from his lungs when she smiled.

Pity really.

As a wave of fresh air cycled through the room, Hideyoshi caught the faint gag; the smell of decay couldn't be missed. He paused, waiting to see if she would really dare to vomit inside his secure sterile environment, but after a second he nodded in approval when no other noise followed.

"I-I'm sorry to interrupt," she began, her voice light in trepidation. He didn't bother looking up to know she was fiddling with that damned charm bracelet he'd given her years ago. "But it's already well past lunch time and you haven't eaten anything. I brought you some—"

"I told you not to bother me for any reason."

"I know, but…" Hideyoshi's fingers paused in wiping down the compound microscope and Misaki's voice trailed off. "Apologizes."

Another moment went by. When it was clear she wasn't going to talk further, Hideyoshi sighed, throwing the towel in the hazardous waste bin and finally spinning around the face her. Fighting down the scowl was harder than usual, but he couldn't really expect anything else from such a besotted woman. He'd already told her countless times before only to bother him if there was something important. In the face of complete chakra network failure and ultimate death, food wasn't high on the list of inconveniences.

Past experiences showed anger and frustration weren't the best ways for him to handle Misaki. She'd be absolutely intolerable until he tracked her down to convince her out of her nonsense.

It was time to try another method.

"I was studying some promising samples,"—lie—"and I need to get back to them." Lifting his voice into something softer and more considering, he hoped for a welcoming tone. It took a moment to mechanically compose his face in signs of genuine acceptance: eyebrows slightly raised, forehead relaxed, and corners of lips tilted up. It was everything he'd seen other people do to smile. "What do you need?" His voice fell flat on his ears.

Close enough, he supposed.

Misaki shifted, still hiding halfway behind the door as the telltale clink of her spinning the charms on her bracelet nearly broke the controlled expression on his face. Only enough of her face stuck in the room for him to see how her eyes widened and lips parted. Surprise, he noted. It was much better than anger.

She shuffled another intolerably wasted moment before finding her squeaky voice. "A messenger is here with important news. He says that it can't wait."

"Which one?" There were spies everywhere around the ninja world watching what was going on for him. Every other day people came in with rumors of great warriors dying, new legends beginning, and political opportunities to take.

"One from the Land of Rivers."

He turned back around to get out his work, waving a hand over his shoulder. This was why he didn't like people, didn't listen to them. They were always running around asking about the most mundane things as if they didn't have a brain to think them through themselves. Nothing happened in the Land of Rivers. The nation was halfway across the continent and twice as useless to him. The only reason he'd even sent a spy there was to get the imbecile out of his way; useless death missions always were best for uselessly loyal morons too curious for their own good.

The spy from the Land of Rivers was supposed to return yesterday. There was no reason that he wouldn't be able to leave a mission report as he'd always done and be off, no matter what insignificant obstruction kept him from arriving on time. Hideyoshi had better things to do than lecture his men about the merits of punctuality, especially when he already had enough subjects and samples at the moment, despite their inadequate quality.

Saving his own life came first. No one could ever seem to remember that around this forsaken compound.

However, Misaki didn't leave as she normally did. It used was one of the best things about her, Hideyoshi mused. She would always listen to him, no matter what the order was in hopes that it might make his fondness grow. It was the very nature of love, a passion fickle as the sea and twice as condemning, a drug shooting people higher than the clouds only to watch them crash and burn when everything shatters on the ground. Misaki always loved. Hideyoshi hated it.

The thought made the decaying pinch behind his heart lurch sardonically in something too mangled to be laughter. Thoughts of love and smiles and joy all tarnished behind the consuming hate bubbling up like acid to eat everything alive.

He nearly turned to glare at her, but in the end, waited to see what could be so important that she would dare to disobey. Patience never led him wrong before; the weapon sealed his reign for years now. He paused, hands hovering over the small chiller where he kept all of his samples to wait.

She didn't disappoint.

"The man encountered something in the Fire Nation on his way here that he said you needed to know." Misaki paused as if waiting for the rebuke before continuing. When a moment passed, she continued, voice slightly stronger. "It involves the safety of the compound, according to what he has to report."

Interesting.

Hideyoshi turned, observing the way Misaki held her hands behind her back to hide her incessant nervous habit of fidgeting. Despite looking decidedly uncomfortable in his lab—though that might be attributed to the blood smears on the smock he wore—it didn't appear as if she was going anywhere until he handled this.

"Fine," he sighed in annoyance, resisting the urge to push his dark shaggy bangs out of his face again since he was still covered in reminisce of human inferiority. "Send him to the tea room connected to my office. I'll be there shortly."

"Of course," Misaki bowed, offering him a brilliant smile that at one point inspired so many thoughts.

Naomi.

The name lurched and lodging in his throat like vomit and burning his esophagus. Hideyoshi smiled through the lance of pain because nothing would ever bring her back and replace plain, ordinary Misaki with the beautiful, exotic woman his soul died for.

"And Misaki," he spoke, the words still harsh and gritty in a way they weren't before. Whatever she must have seen in his eyes made her smile fall and Hideyoshi decided the look was far more fitting. "Tell Kazuya that if he ever keeps me waiting a day again, it will be his last."

"O-Of course, Hideyoshi," she stuttered.

He smiled as the steel door shut, locking him with his eternal problems.


	9. Chapter 7

**Warning:** crippling pain, extreme paranoia, chakra exhaustion, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** always the same

 **Notes:** Happy Holiday's everyone! As promised, here is the next chapter :) It's the last of this arc of the story, I suppose. The beginning stage of suspicion and building up relations is done. On to the deception and fun part! Woo hoo! I won't even try to hide how excited I am to show everything that's coming up.

I decided to leave the half chapter as it was posted for the time being. Originally I was going to absorb it into this chapter, but I didn't want everyone who just read it to have to skip or repeat and all of that jazz. Eventually, I might bring it into another chapter, but it's not really hurting anything sooo...

Enjoy!

Like before, translations and explanations are at the bottom. This time I marked the words with an * so you know. Hopefully that helps :)

Updates should be the last Thursday evening of the month still, US time. A giant thank you to my wonderful beta DimiGex!

* * *

 **Catching Lightning In A Bottle**

 **Chapter 7**

A young girl swung her feet off the finely upholstered sofa, absentmindedly tracing the embroidered blossoms and twisting branches with her finger. At six years old, Mitsuki's foot dangled above the floor.

"Why can't I go see Haha-ue* again?" Mitsuki asked the guards standing beside the doors. No matter where the little girl went, guards followed. Today, more than normal stood around: two at each door and others she could hear reporting happenings around the compound.

Hideyoshi, her little brother, prepared to flick a painted pebble on the ground towards Mitsuki's piece, protected by the chair leg. To win her rock, he had to bank off one other surface before touching her pebble. She didn't dare glance away in case he cheated, not even as the guard responded. Mitsuki asked a dozen times before, continually poking and prodding for any variation or verbatim she could manipulate, but the guard hadn't wavered.

Most of the Kenshin shinobi expected the test from the Clan Head's second daughter. It was better that than her insatiable curiosity and boredom latching onto a more … entertaining idea.

The man's voice tinged with frustration regardless. "It is not time, Mitsuki-dono*," he repeated again.

Shikishi sighed near the window. "Why do you always have to be such a brat, Imouto*-chan?" Lolling her head back towards the ocean outside, Mitsuki's older sister of two years glared.

Hideyoshi flicked the pebble, sending it skirting off the table, up past the flower vase, and tumbling into the side of the chair leg. For a second, every eye flickered over in rapt attention. They were met with the same suspended disappointment as always, filled with potential and talent, but falling short. Hideyoshi's stone missed Mitsuki's pieces completely, leaving itself vulnerable. Ultimately, it marked the beginning of the end, where the admiration and awe of natural talent would eventually be overcome by disdain and jealousy.

Mitsuki pointed petulantly, still tracing designs with her other hand and said, "Maa, maa, Yoshi-chan! You should go under the table, not over it, Baka! At least then, I can't catch you."

Dark eyes glared up at her as Shikishi scoffed at being ignored from across the room. "I _was_ trying. Your piece is up there, Onee*-chan!"

The guards hid their smiles behind their half-lowered face shields. Mitsuki always beat her little brother; her ninja skills were incredible for someone at the tender age of six. Even the game of _Ohajiki*_ , where opponents captured enemy pieces by hitting them, turned into a complex collaboration of banks and ricochets across the room.

"You two are getting your clothes dirty," Shikishi scolded, but no one paid the eldest daughter any attention.

"My turn!" Mitsuki chirped.

Sliding off the couch, Mitsuki skipped towards her favorite piece, a unique blue stone that had a sparrow painted on the top. With a quick look around the room, she dropped low for the best angle. The dress that she'd been forced into dragged awkwardly along the floor, fading the fine silk at the knees. Not that Mitsuki minded. Before she could wiggle halfway underneath the table, the double doors at the end of the room swung open.

A metallic tang filled the air.

"Otō*-sama!" Hideyoshi called.

The three children spun around to see their father step into the room, exhausted and dirty. The stains of blood on his hands and the creases in his shirt from an anxious grip fell back behind the awkward smile of a man too serious and hallowed. The guards frowned, picking up on the melancholy undertone in the man's body language. The kids missed it. In a second they rushed across the room, Mitsuki and Yoshi flashing over with incredible speed as Shikishi walked quietly. Three sets of eyes turned upward expectantly, and the guards shared a glance as the commander and clan head hid traces of blood from his children.

Their father smiled, weary and relieved. "Come see you're new sister."

* * *

It wasn't death that lingered in the air. Death, Mitsuki knew: the metallic tang and rotting stench, browning crusts of blood and fluid over the floors, and morbid silence, similar to shock, bleeding into horror. Here in the hospital, it lingered in the air and always would. The gruesome shadow wasn't what kept Mitsuki's muscles rigid where she sensation felt different. A creeping chill wiggled up her muscles in a nerve-tingling itch. Out of all the feelings that plagued Mitsuki throughout her spotted history, paranoia tasted the worst.

Mitsuki muffled the hum radiating through the medical tents by holding her head in her hands. Despite the throbs of pain from her head, details in the room pulsed with heightened clarity.

Yuko sat next to Ryuuta's bed, swinging her feet with a perpetual squeak from the uneven chair legs. A few strides from Mitsuki, Ryuuta babbled about fantastic feats. Isamu's hands wrapped plaster strips around his arm as he talked, easily keeping the limb at the correct angle. Outside the curtains sectioning off the small alcove, carts rushed by on wobbly wheels. Patients groaned and cried, while medical-nin rushed about in flurries of words.

Anxiety made Mitsuki twitch with every breath of noise. A splitting headache forced her eyes shut—the one caused by _never_ sleeping no matter how hard she tried—enhanced each noise.

Headaches, she could handle. Years of her decaying body built up enough pain resistance and will power to shove the pressure on the back of her mind.

Danger she couldn't ignore as easily.

Fourteen ninja stood within lethal range. The vivid energy signatures lit up Mitsuki's mind like prison spotlights when she turned her focus outward. Some were likely patients at the temporary hospital, but Mitsuki knew better than to trust an injured shinobi; that mistake had already cost her everything in the Land of Water when a man robbed her of her birthright. Whenever a shinobi walked towards the tents, Mitsuki's hackles rose, aware a kunai could pierce the fabric walls with only a split second to react.

The feeling in the air might not be death, but it tasted like everything leading up to it. This place held nothing but promises of murder and nerve-wracking trepidation.

In less than an hour, every ninja in the vicinity was on high alert.

 _S_ he'd given herself away. _Stupid,_ Mitsuki mentally cursed again. Her fingers dug deeply into her scalp in frustration, but no one in the room noticed over the relentless noise.

Possessing chakra control hardly warranted concern in a village of refugees. To survive, most people had to fight. Speed wasn't the worst ability in Konohagakure. Mitsuki's fate depended on whether or not Tobirama connected her abilities to the infiltrations at the Hokage Tower. She'd always been careful to mask her presence, but any time that shinobi used enhanced speed or strength, some of their spiritual energy activated. One second could have blown her cover. How many times had Tobirama been inside the Tower when she'd busted in?

If he connected her energy signature to the one sneaking around, nothing that Mitsuki had worked for over the last two months mattered anymore. Maybe Konohagakure wasn't a military state, but with the Hokage determining everyone's lives, it might as well be. With Hashirama and Madara outside the village, Tobirama held her fate in his hands.

Did he have enough intel to act? Or would he try to find more information first?

Those were the only questions that mattered.

Either Mitsuki escaped the village gates tonight with all the kids, or she implemented her backup plan. Killing was never her goal, hardly even a thought, but if push came to shove the blood on her hands dripped black enough that a few others souls wouldn't make much of a difference. Three deaths, maybe five depending on which guard rotation, and everything she came for could be in her hands. Before anyone could sound an alarm she'd be back at the house, grabbing the kids and—

"All done," Isamu announced from her position at Ryuuta's side.

Mitsuki snapped back to attention. Despite drifting off more than most people, she sensed that she'd been silent for too long. To uphold pretenses, she straightened, forced a smile, and blinked to focus on her children and friend in front of her. Isamu was smiling, plump cheeks rosy and genuinely happy while Yuko stared with bored curiosity. Ryuuta wiggled around the new limitation with a frown. The pristine cast spanned from his knuckles to above the bend of his elbow.

A shinobi passed the room, walking close enough to _feel_ the curtain door rustle. Mitsuki froze. She waited as they moved by, waited for the flux in chakra, or the pause before a kunai flew in for the kill.

"Now, you can't get it wet. Hold it up when you take a bath, ok?"

Remembering the important conversation going on, Mitsuki's head snapped around. Yuuko stared with a furrowed brow at the strange behavior, but thankfully Isamu's and Ryuuta looked oblivious. Mitsuki ignored Yuko in favor of watching Isamu.

Grabbing the leftover bandages, her friend waited for Ryuuta to stop waving his new arm around and meet her gaze before delivering the final instructions. "As long as you don't push yourself, the cast should be able to come off in three weeks."

Isamu must have placed the bone and initiated the healing process for such a speedy removal. Not that Mitsuki remembered it happening. In case Tobirama managed to blow her cover, Mitsuki stored Isamu's information away; someone needed to be able to remove a cast without medical shinobi around. Without the ability to heal using chakra, the only option was to take care of Ryuuta's recovery herself if they needed to run. No one else in the Land of Fire would help.

"M'kay!" Ryuuta chirped, clearly not listening. "But I'm tellin' you, 'Samu-san, it was super cool. I had ta be fifty feet high and everythin'!"

Isamu met Mitsuki's gaze across the room, amused, and Mitsuki rolled her eyes. The kid's ability to lie might have been more concerning if it wasn't so obvious. There were bigger fires to fight at the moment.

"You were not, baka. Don't lie," Yuko snipped.

"Hey!" Enraged, Ryuuta whirled around on his sister, face threatening to match the color of his hair. Isamu had to sit back to avoid being caught by the end of his cast as it swung past, and a roll of bandages tumbled to the floor. "Take tha' back! You—Ow!"

Ryuuta crumpled on the bed, face twisted, and Yuko didn't even bother turning her head towards him with her scathing conclusion. " _Baka._ "

"Kids," Mitsuki chided, ignoring how pleading and pitiful her voice sounded to her own ears. Both turned to glance at her, and she shot them exasperated looks behind the hand rubbing her temples. A vicious stress headache attempted to blend Mitsuki brains to puree, but she refused to pull her senses inward to doctor the feeling in hopes of it going away. "Just let Isamu finish her job, alright?"

For some forsaken reason Isamu smiled, but her adopted children looked apologetic when they glanced away. "Yes, Mi-chan," they chorused.

Mitsuki stood and took the two steps to cross the entirety of their curtained off room and placed a hand on the taller woman's shoulder. "Thank you, Isamu. I mean it." The way the crinkles in the corners of Isamu's eyes eased in a smile made it easier to return the gesture, even if the emotion behind it probably looked pathetic as it felt. "How much do I owe you?"

The rejection crossed her face before it could escape her lips. "Don't be ridiculous! With everything you do around the hospital, I'm the one indebted to _your_ unending kindness," Isamu declared, catching Mitsuki's hand before it made it to the inner pockets of her clothing.

Nearly jerking back in surprise, Mitsuki stared at their hands, knowing insomnia ate away her flesh underneath the skin. The several layers of clothing hiding her withered body couldn't disguise her hands. Over four years without enough sleep cut a brutal mark. A headache throbbed against her head, but even distracted as she was, Mitsuki knew better than to make a scene. As long as disgust or horror never crept into the kind smile on Isamu's face there was no reason to react. "Really, I—"

"I insist," Isamu pressed, waiting another moment of sincere eye contact to release Mitsuki's captured hand. She reached out to squeeze her arm affectionately.

Mitsuki flinched, trying to angle away, but it was too late.

"It hardly took any—"

Isamu eyes popped open, staring down where Mitsuki's bicep belonged. Instead of the slight give of actual _flesh,_ there was hardly anything more than bones and tendons. A medical ninja wouldn't—couldn't—miss that. It felt as alarming as Mitsuki's pounding heartbeat.

No one in the village knew about the malnutrition and insomnia that let Mitsuki do her job. Part of the reason that she got away with breaking in at night with little suspicion was due to the facts humans couldn't survive without sleep. Sleep deprivation killed. No one knew that underneath the layers of fabric, a skeleton perversely played human by stretching haunted flesh across bones.

"—time at all," Isamu finished, voice no more than a murmur.

Mitsuki's smile cracked a little, feeling forced and fake, as she nearly jerked out of the woman's grip. There wasn't time to think of anything cleverer to say, and she blurted, "I'll bring over some herbs then."

Kami, that sounded like a bribe.

Clenching her fists tightly, Mitsuki quickly spit out, "I mean … if you need some, of course," but the words only twisted something odd into something awkward, pointing out the unease and insecurity for the world to see. _Stop_ , she really needed to stop talking.

Damn it, Mitsuki knew Isamu was more affectionate than most people, but she didn't expect her to _reach out._

 _Fix it._ Mitsuki had to fix this now.

Genjutsu was out of the question with the kids in the room. The only one that she was decent at changed a person's perception beforehand, making it useless now. Too many people respected Isamu as one of the head medical ninja to discredit her if Mitsuki told someone.

 _Gesture to tell a secret, smile at kids, pull her into a hug with head out of sight,_ the dark voice in Mitsuki's head hissed. _Then reach up to snap her neck until her body jerked and the life was gone._ Years of survival and war strategies flashed through her head, hundreds of different ways to kill flashing before her eyes, but none of them solved the problem of the children. _A senbon needle in the back of the neck, severing connection to brain stem, quick and silent so she sits down and no one realizes until_ —

No. No. _No._

Mitsuki cringed, jerking away from the thoughts. They weren't an option. The very fact that killing Isamu seemed like a choice left nothing but the bitter taste of cruelty and horror on her tongue.

Even worse, Isamu stared, shocked and concerned, but clearly unaware of the desperate thoughts swirling through Mitsuki's twisted mind. While Mitsuki would kill her to hide the truth, Isamu's concern laid with her friend. That _burned_ a piece of her humanity inside.

The silence stretched on long enough for Yuko and Ryuuta to notice that something was amiss. Both looked over, seeing far too much. Then after a beat, Isamu stepped back to start organizing leftover materials, eyes meeting Mitsuki's for a moment too long before she smiled.

The tension fled out of Mitsuki without another thought, but the repulsion festered deeper inside, a sickness twisting her gut.

Trust used to come easy, before the death of her sister and father and mother. Before lies sent her here, and this _damn curse_ ruined _everything._

Even the most beautiful flowers withered without the sun.

"It'd be appreciated," Isamu stated.

Mitsuki had to think back to even remember what nonsense tumbled out of her mouth a few seconds earlier. A bribe: herbs. Right. It was hard to tell if she was reading too much into Isamu's voice, or if it really sounded as distant as it felt.

When Isamu turned her back to put away leftover supplies, the anxiety of not seeing her expression ate Mitsuki's gut. "After all, we would have been in a tight pinch without the ingredients you brought to make some soldier pills," she continued with another questioning glance her way.

Mitsuki twisted her face into something resembling a smile, fighting the flinch as her headache chomped into her brain, ripping out the flesh with vicious fangs. Only faking smiles for years let her find the rusting mechanics to lie again. "I'm sure if I asked everyone else they wouldn't be so excited considering the awful taste." A sad attempt at humor, even by Mitsuki's standards.

Like that, Isamu's strange concern was swept away as a passing lapse of thought. Her laugh tinkered like bells too pure for ears. "Yes, well, I supposed we can't be good at everything now."

First, the bad information she'd gotten about when the Hokage was leaving, then Tobirama, and now _this._ The stabbing behind Mitsuki's eyes brutalized her vision. With a jolt, she realized that, in her shock, Tobirama's presence had slipped from her mind. She closed her eyes tight to expand her senses again until she found him. The small amount of relief seeing him in the same location hardly eased the tension along her spine. With everything closing in the pressure threatened to strangle her.

Sixteen ninja were near enough to kill now.

It wasn't until the _shush_ of the curtain that Mitsuki realized she zoned out from the awkward silence of the room to nurse her headache. She hadn't even felt a person coming, meaning they hid their chakra, and—

"Jin," Mitsuki breathed out in surprise. It wasn't until her muscles relaxed that she realized her hand had slipped halfway inside her outer coat for a weapon.

Everyone's head turned eagerly at the distraction. Yuko stopped rocking in her seat, and Ryuuta sat up. Jin paused halfway in the room under the attention, eyeing everyone with a strange look on his face; one hand lingered on the curtain while the other hid behind his back. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked cautiously.

"Not at all," Mitsuki said a beat too fast. She eyed his hidden hand wearily but forced herself to act as though she'd been rubbing her collarbone to hide her movement.

Clearing her throat quietly, Mitsuki took a deep breath to center herself again. _Kami what is today coming to?_ Jin's sharp eyes seemed to catch the strange mood lingering in the air. Four people staring made it blatant. Even if she had the words to explain things quickly, Mitsuki didn't want to think about them again.

Giving up on hiding the pain in her head, Mitsuki brought up a hand to sooth her throbbing temple. Forget the hawk eyes staring at her. She had a right to be stressed. Isamu didn't comment, even as her eyes followed the motion, and Mitsuki willed herself not to care.

"What are you doing here, Jin?" Mitsuki asked, only because the silence was stretching too long.

"Rough day?" he guessed, finally entering their secluded alcove and closing the privacy curtain behind him.

The snort was unavoidable.

Jin smiled with a fondness that should have never been there. The same meaningful gaze jerked something inside Mitsuki's chest too tight in a wholly guilty way. Regardless, he straightened up, his towering form pulling his shirt tight around his slender chest and making his features cut shadows in the light too unique to ignore. The small area felt tight with five people or maybe just with Jin. "And it started off so good too," he teased. If his voice didn't have that soft rumble, Mitsuki might have been able to convince herself he didn't care.

"I'd have thought you'd be asleep by now, Jin." It was a sad distraction, but honestly, at the moment, it was all she could come up with.

His toothy grin made her realize her unintentional set-up. "Don't worry Mitsuki-chan, I can go all day when I put my mind to it."

She could not handle this now.

Despite herself, a flush roared into her cheeks and she tried to hide it pitifully behind a hand. Jin smiled triumphantly and Ryuuta and Yuko looked over at her confused. It was Isamu's piercing eyes, standing across the room that took willpower not to glower her way.

Mercifully, he turned towards the others before anyone could even _think_ to ask about what he meant. "I heard someone talking about one of you sobbing, so I figured I'd find you all here." The normally tormenting comment struck a different cord after what happened, but thankfully Mitsuki didn't see anyone else react oddly to it. When his eyes fell on Ryuuta, the little nugget didn't seem to know how to feel about the information. His face contorted into something between offense and pride, but he was apparently too subdued to protest. "That wouldn't have been you I heard about, was it?"

"What of it?" Ryuuta challenged, flaring his plump cheeks out in a pout.

Rubbing the back of his head, Jin admitted, "I thought for sure I was going to find Yamaguri-kun again…"

Out of the four children that leeched onto her, Yamaguri had been hurt the most. Picking fights with Uchiha capable of reading every move he'd make before he thought it, tended to be bad for his health. Ryuuta tried hard too; one day maybe she'd find a tally of battle scars.

Yuko puffed out her cheeks and glowered quietly. "I don't know _why._ Ryuuta's way more of a baby."

"Take tha' back!" Ryuuta roared, leaping out of the bed. He crossed the room in two small bounds, good arm cocked back to punch.

Without thinking, Mitsuki flashed over, catching his arm before the fist could make contact with Yuko's stunned face. Twisting him around with his momentum, she launched him back towards the bed, wheels skidding across the ground. Her foot barely touched the ground before she appeared back across the room, standing as she had before.

Everyone stood still. Mitsuki dropped her head, letting out a sigh as her bangs covered her face as time seemed to pick back up again. With her other hand, she dropped the ram seal of her jutsu, hidden in the long wide sleeve of her overcoat.

That was too close. She almost didn't get to cast it in time. Quickly checking Isamu and Jin's eyes, Mitsuki felt the relief weaken her knees seeing the way they blinked to refocus.

They hadn't seen her move.

The drop in chakra hit with a painful twitch, a vicious reminder that most of Mitsuki's chakra remained sealed away thanks to the curse. Without some rest, two more small jutsu's would push her below the danger zone.

Yuko frowned, seeing how Ryuuta appeared to have tripped getting out of bed, falling and shoving the whole thing back nearly into Isamu's legs. "I told you, Baka. Don't be such an idiot."

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

By the time Jin waved goodbye, the sun vanished behind the trees and the wind blew bitter cold. Ryuuta and Yuko grumbled while they walked back to the house for dinner, but Mitsuki let them be as long as the conversation didn't grow too heated. Instead, she tugged her outer cloak tighter, face nearly completely covered, and cursing the seasons for taking a long time to change. Days were too short, and nights stretched an eternity, especially without decent sleep. Mitsuki's clothes barely kept out the cold. She sauntered on, waving at the few people she passed on the way out of the heart of the village while Yuko and Ryuuta trailed behind.

A flicker in the back of her mind followed as she weaved down streets, away from the heart of the village, and towards the outer walls where her house hid in the trees. As alarming as it might have been, Mitsuki never acknowledged the people following her. They confirmed that Tobirama suspected something.

Jin's visit hadn't been chance. Hearing about Ryuuta was one thing; hunting her down and finding her in the hospital to check on him when he should have been sound asleep was another thing entirely. He'd hung around the entire time that Mitsuki checked out, subjecting her to the meaningful looks Isamu shot when she thought he wouldn't notice. The bastard didn't even have the decency to hide his toothy smile about the whole thing. Afterwards, when he'd insisted upon taking Ryuuta out for a treat, Mitsuki nearly brushed it aside.

Then, all of the sudden, he'd asked about the flower shop, and how it was going. Then, what she did there, who she worked with, how long she'd been there, and why. Innocent enough questions for a stranger maybe, but never something Jin, the flirty guard with too sharp of teeth that teased her pink in the face every morning, would talk about.

He got a mission: check in with all vendors in section 4B and make a report. The _Hokage_ , who wasn't even in the village, sent him out to inspect vendors _today_ of all days.

The two ninja trailing her probably had the same agenda.

Tobirama was clearly looking into her abilities. It was too early to determine whether or not he believed that Mitsuki broke into the Hokage Tower, but her skill appeared threatening enough to warrant an individual check-up by shinobi. _Three_ , in fact, though to be fair, she probably wasn't supposed to notice the two following her. They were staying far enough back that a normal shinobi wouldn't detect them or sense the threat they presented. Thankfully, Mitsuki had never been normal.

If Jin hadn't been the person to question her, Mitsuki didn't want to think how things might have turned out. It felt cruel to manipulate his affection for her, but for once, Mitsuki felt grateful that she hadn't crushed his attentions earlier. They might have saved her.

Her two tails were most likely for assurance on the report.

With a sigh, Mitsuki shouldered open the door to her house, stepping aside for a moment to let Ryuuta and Yuko shuffle past. Being in the small hovel never felt as relaxing as it did when she shut the door and temporarily escaped the eyes following her. She took longer than normal to slip out of her shoes, reaching up carefully to flip over the red and blue token at the door, and hang up her outermost coat on a hanger. Four small sets of sandals sat by hers, and the sight tugged at a raw place inside.

Takeda stood by the stove, stirring something that smelled appealing. From behind, his ordinary brown hair and slender frame echoed of the past, but Mitsuki ignored the pressing memory in favor of surveying the rest of the room. Yamaguri sat near the fireplace, working on sharpening a knife by the looks of things. The sound of metal scraping on stone cut above the sizzle in the skillet.

For a few seconds, everything felt right. Mitsuki's smile came easy for the first time in hours, like everything would be ok.

"Welcome home," Takeda called warmly.

Mitsuki paused, her grin dimming at the familiar twinge of pain the words brought. _Home._ Crazy how one little word dropped the world back into place and Mitsuki couldn't ignore how fake it felt. It wasn't Tatsuya standing by the stove or the sound of her little brother sharpening his weapons by the fire.

It was the pairs of eyes outside the window, watching everything.

Forcing a smile, Mitsuki put back on the face she wore every day and ignored the bone-weary exhaustion in her body to bounce across the room as she always did. Ryuuta and Yuko grumbled back greetings of their own, before flopping down at the single couch.

"Smells good, Taka-kun," Mitsuki grinned from across the room. She paused behind Yamaguri, leaning closer than necessary to check his progress with his knife. He flinched, nearly nicking a finger, but before he could whirl around for a well-deserved whack, Mitsuki fluttered across the room towards Takeda at the stove. "What's for dinner?"

"Mi-chan!" Yamaguri screeched at the same time Ryuuta shouted, "Check out my cast!"

"You can't scare me like that!"

"She's been awful _all_ day," Yuko complained from the couch. "She had to talk to everyone on the way home. It took forever."

"Yama-kun!" Ryuuta cut in. "I'm talkin' to ya!"

Takeda leveled her a mild look Mitsuki stoutly ignored as she stepped up beside him with a smile. Chaos naturally happened. It didn't make her the single cause. "Vegetable stir-fry," he answered instead of the lecturing comment he probably wanted to say.

Mitsuki spared a second to smell the sizzling vegetables before grabbing the pan and tilting it over the sink, tuning out Ryuuta telling the epic adventure of falling out of a tree. "Remember, too much water and juice steams them, not fries. Use some of this oil if it starts to brown." Before handing the pan back over, Mitsuki reached up on her tiptoes to reach a few herbs in the cupboards above. "Here. For more flavor."

"Thanks," Takeda mumbled, eyes intently taking in the details. He'd started cooking a few days ago when he noticed Mitsuki scrambling to get back in time for dinner, and since then, had soaked up any advice. From the way he handled the pan, moving it back over the heat and remembering to use a towel against the metal, Mitsuki trusted him enough not to burn anything. Takeda was one of the few she gave enough credit not to hurt himself, despite only being fourteen.

Despite her stomach grumbling, excited by the tantalizing smells, other things needed to be taken care of first. Mitsuki glanced around one more time to check that everything was in order before slinking off towards the back of the house. "I'm going to get some more work done before dinner!" she hollered.

She was gone before anyone could question it.

* * *

The Kenshin Clan never stood out as a powerful or influential clan in the Land of Water. They were small and reclusive, hiding near the sea, in a fortress protected by rock despite the battles waged on neighboring clans. War brought resources, survival, but few outside the Land of Water knew the Kenshin existed.

However, there was one scroll cherished by Mitsuki's people that set them apart.

Mitsuki meticulously went around her room, making sure that every detail looked as though she were sitting down to work. Lock the door, close the blinds, activate the silencing seal placed beneath the window to cancel all sounds to eavesdroppers, and set out her worn tami mat for a comfortable place to sit. This jutsu took energy and time, neither one was abundant now. At least, if she passed out using it, Mitsuki would land softly as long as she sat on her bedding. She wandered over towards the window pretending to look for something else once everything was set up. Mitsuki worried at her thumb nail, glancing around the room before biting through the calloused skin. A small dot of blood welled just enough for her to press it under the window seal as she braced herself to bend down and grab a book from the small pile on the floor. The chakra neutralizer hummed into activation.

The tug of chakra from the small jutsu's made her fingers tingle in a sickening way. Her head swam as she stood. Four years ago, they would have hardly scraped the cream off the top of her reserves, but it already felt like a considerable amount of her energy zipped away casting genjutsu earlier at the hospital.

Mitsuki couldn't wait to get off that _damned_ chakra restrictor cursing her body into this shell of herself.

 _Patience_. All it would take was a little more patience. Convince Tobirama she wasn't related to the break-ins at the Hokage Tower, then, break in to find the information she needed on the Uzumaki Clan and get out of this forsaken village.

Easy.

With a sigh, Mitsuki plopped down on her mat, turning her back towards the only window in the room and cracked open her book. It was time. The moment she pressed her bleeding thumb into her opposite wrist, a swirling black tattoo rose to the surface along the inside of her arm, compact kanji lining the main chakra network running from her fingers to her heart.

A hammer knocked into her chest, nearly making her wheeze. The chakra feeding into the writing pulled out of her body faster than before, a burning pain searing through exhausted chakra networks until it felt like too much. Her vision blurred. Her entire arm screamed and shook.

Then it stopped.

Sucking in a breath of relief, Mitsuki closed her eyes and gauged her chakra levels, finding them too close to dangerous zones for comfort. It would do for a few minutes, at least, if she was lucky.

Quickly then.

 _Breathe in. Picture the seal upon another's arm. Breathe out._

Behind her lids, a plain room materialized, filled with two cushions; one for her and the other empty. For a second the world stood still. Mitsuki waited anxiously for the stretching pulse of chakra to connect to the other end.

A woman fazed into existence across from her.

Breath-taking couldn't describe her. She was exquisite; high cheekbones under crystal blue eyes, and glowing skin accentuated by luscious dark hair tumbling down her back. This woman belonged in rooms filled with the softest furs and exotic furniture, not the pathetic excuse she stood in now. Considering the lack of smoky paints and powders accentuating her naturally seductive features, Mitsuki could only assume the woman had been getting ready for bed. With two sophisticated steps, Mitsuki watched the gorgeous creature kneel on the cushion. Any doubt as to why men and shinobi alike fell at her feet that had grown since Mitsuki last saw her fled away. It didn't matter that she couldn't carry kunai or daggers in the revealing silk gown; deadly weapons slowed kunoichi of her status down.

"Koneko," Mitsuki greeted simply. She ignored the strain in her voice; chakra deprivation wasn't anything new anymore, and the woman across from her witnessed lower times. "It's been a while."

Rather than responding, Koneko's eyes roamed the room around them, taking in the state of wear on the paper walls, and the splinters along the wooden floors; a room cast through Kokoro* Hashi* represented the direct health and strength of the user. Her plump lips twisted down into a sensual frown. For a moment, Mitsuki thought she would speak, but her eyes eventually moved down towards the book Mitsuki held in her hands. It was the only object from the real world that manifested over the mental connection, and Mitsuki turned the page absently to uphold pretenses back where prying eyes lurked outside windows.

"You're being watched," Koneko concluded.

Mitsuki grinned, opening her mouth to make a wisecrack when a sharp pain shot through her heart. Too much chakra already fed into the jutsu and Mitsuki recognized her pitiful reserves were quickly drying up. This conversation needed to be fast. She'd send the details later with her summons.

Shifting slightly, Mitsuki cut straight to the point. "Tobirama suspects me." Koneko straightened reflexively. That name, even without context, preambled images of bingo books and dangerous ghost stories to keep children dutiful. "I made a mistake and am being investigated, though they haven't found anything yet. Two ninja are outside," Mitsuki explained, turning a page again.

Koneko's eyes narrowed, but Mitsuki figured the dark look came from the threat to her life; at least she hoped it did. "How?"

Mitsuki waved her hand dismissively, before catching herself and realizing the action probably looked odd to the shinobi watching. She quickly dropped her hand back to the book and fingered the pages. "Not important. I'm going to need to stay longer than I thought. The cover that I've built up should hold, but I won't be able to get the counterseal with shinobi following me around. My chakra's too thin to hold a genjutsu that long." While not originally part of the plan, her adopted children served as deterrent thinking for the time. They provided leeway to run around the village with more freedom. While Tobirama expected her to break into the Tower, she could utilize Keiko to get into the Uchiha Compound and check for information there. If things broke down too quickly, Jin wouldn't stop her from leaving the village and she could find Kosei and Yushin, the two farmers, to hide out at their place until the searches past by. Everything worked together. The alibis should hold. "Have other lands heard about Konohagakure yet?"

"Taicho*," Koneko began, but Mitsuki straightened up with a snap before she could.

" _Don't_."

The tone was dark, rolling with power and confidence of everything Mitsuki represented in another life. Koneko stopped, reassessing, and Mitsuki held her gaze, daring her to use the title again.

Those days had passed. Mitsuki wasn't the commander of anything anymore.

Sighing, Koneko turned her head away to check her nails. "Mitsuki," she amended, "If they don't lock you up as a traitor, you know what they will do to you as a ninja."

Captured enemy ninja didn't live long. Mitsuki knew the cost of freedom in those situations—she'd seen them herself. A lucky person only sold out their friends and family. Few lived to serve a clan they hated like a stolen weapon. Others...

Closing her eyes, Mitsuki took a deep breath. "I know the risk, Koneko."

A lull of silence fell over the two, filled with decaying pain. Mitsuki couldn't determine if it came from the chakra being stolen by the jutsu or her soul.

Koneko shook her head, brushing some hair behind her ear, changing the subject. "The other nations shouldn't have heard about the village. Right now, Hideyoshi has me on a mission in the Land of Lightning." Mitsuki flinched at the name, but Koneko graciously didn't comment. "Word hasn't gotten here yet, though rumors about the end of Uchiha and Senju clan's war has spread. People worry about a powershift."

"And the Compound?"

"Surviving," Koneko stated, and Mitsuki could sense there was something deeper from her tone. "Wars broke out again with surrounding clans, but Hideyoshi keeps gaining ground. Not many people see him anymore."

Staring down at her hands, Mitsuki nodded. Numbly, she turned another page in her book, but her mind was far away in memories too rugged to hurt after too long. A long time ago, she'd convinced herself the Kenshin Compound ended their last war; a foolish thought. The Land of Fire might have been lucky enough to discover a peaceful conclusion to war, but the Land of Water lived under bloody revenge and jaded perceptions of brutality.

Another painful tug of chakra shot up her arm. This time, Koneko's form fizzled in front of her, flickering in and out before Mitsuki grounded herself to stabilize the technique. Her chakra dipped dangerously low.

Straightening up, Mitsuki gave one last order. "Keep an eye open. The world's going to change quickly now."

Koneko nodded as the connection broke. She phased out before Mitsuki could catch the ghost of respect echo across the mental connection, a promise to a commander, a princess, and a friend: "Of course, Mitsuki-taichou."

* * *

A long time ago Mitsuki learned a bitter truth, one that formed by carving the life and color from her dreams. Like all truths, the price to learn it crushed everything.

People were cruel. They _liked_ it. People hurt others, broke their hearts and stepped on the pieces. In one second, they shattered promises, chained them up and dragged them naked through the gravel to make them understand a fraction of their pain. In the end, cruelty was easy. Satisfying.

Those bastards that cast her out should rot in the deepest pits of hell. They chose the devil and ate his lies instead of believing her, instead of showing a second of faith and gratitude for everything she'd accomplished. She deserved to drag every one of them down into the muck until it bleed into their lungs and the filthy lies popped from their bulging eyes in misery. Those traitors choose their fate.

That's how she should feel; stitch the shattered pieces of her heart back together with the thread of steel and watch with a razor smile as she lunged for the throat.

But she didn't. _Kami_ she couldn't. If she could go back or one second and _change_ , if she'd been stronger or see the avalanche her choices were causing then maybe—

No. That was enough for now.

It was time to wake up.

* * *

 _-ue:_ literally means 'above', and denotes a high level of respect; only used for family titles; mainly used in samurai families before the Meiji period

 _-dono_ : roughly means 'lord' or 'master', typically below - _sama_ because it doesn't equate noble status

 _Imouto_ : little sister

 _Onee_ : older sister

 _Ohajiki:_ a traditional Japanese children's game similar to marbles historically played with pebbles or rocks; also refers to the small coin-shaped pieces used to play the game **  
**

 _Otō_ : a very formal and polite way to say father

 _Kokoro:_ has three basic meanings: the heart and its functions; mind and its functions; and center, or essence.

 _Hashi:_ basically means bridge

 _Taicho:_ means 'captain', 'leader', or 'commander'


	10. Chapter 8

**Warning:** haunting memories, suspicious activities, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** Overstated by this point

 **AN:  
** Hi everyone! Sorry for posting a couple days late. I was suddenly called out of town for a family member passing (not sudden or anything) and completely forgot that it was the last Thursday of the month. Thank you to everyone who's favorited and followed, as well those taking the time to leave your reviews. They make me glow, truly.

With the Fudal area, there are a lot of gray information. For anyone reading who's tried to piece together a timeline with the Naruto show and Hashirama's sketchy past/age timeline, I'm giving Hashirama more time with the village before things go down than portrayed in the anime/manga. I made my own timeline and everything for it if you're ever curious.

Like before, translations and explanations are at the bottom. The words are marked with an * as before

Updates should be the last Thursday evening of the month still, US time. A giant thank you to my wonderful beta DimiGex!

* * *

 **Catching Lightning In A Bottle**

 **Chapter 8**

Mitsuki's bodyguard looked down at her, a concerned look transforming his plain face into something ugly. He called out, echoing like a forgotten memory left behind. For a moment the world hazed, her mind bleaching into soft white, as if suddenly where she was wasn't important anymore.

Mitsuki blinked, vision fuzzy.

The waves washed up. Flooding over her face. Filling her lungs. She didn't move, couldn't move as the weight froze her body solid, the ocean pouring inside like a disease. Hands reached up from the sand, ripping her deeper.

"Suki-chan," Tatsuya called.

Down, down. Until the water blocked out the sun and the fingers clawed, slicing into flesh, pulling bluing skin inside out and intestines in a messy pile around her.

She choked.

"Oi! Suki-chan!"

Gasping, she jolted up, nearly knocking into her best friends head only to fall back on the ground in a sloppy flop. The hands were gone. The waves, gone. It was just her, Tatsuya, and the bright sunny day in one of the manors interior gardens.

Tatsuya waved a hand in front of her face, that ugly expression never wavering. Concern, she realized, taking in the odd angles and pinches. Maybe constipation. The dirty brown shine in his eyes faded with the look, and it made the mop of ordinary brown hair look more unkempt than usual. "Suki-chan, Chizu's looking you." His voice finally dropped since puberty set in, and for once he didn't squeak.

Mitsuki lazily batted his hand away, shoving herself up into a sitting position. Her head swam a bit and she blinked more. A book she was reading sat on the ground, open and spine suffering, and for a moment she stared, unable to remember the page she was on.

Mitsuki blinked, clearing her eyes to their usual playful sharpness, confused as she asked, "What?"

Tatsuya's brown eyes narrowed. "Chizu is looking for you." He waited for a beat for her expression to clear before explaining, "She said you promised her."

His eyes flickered down to the neglected book and his face screwed up in the most kind of grotesque thought: a distracting one. "I thought you'd already gained your summons Suki-chan…" His voice died out as clarity came back and he could see the foggy comprehension and darker splotches of her nightmares eating away holes under her eyes. "Suki-chan?" While Mitsuki acted oblivious and unaware, she had always been intrinsically in tune with her surroundings from a young age. Falling asleep out in the open wasn't normal. "You haven't been having problems sleeping again, have you?"

It was no secret between them that sometimes guilt and nightmares haunted her mind. Neither spoke of the demons that came back to devour her dreams. There were too many.

"Are you ok?"

" _Baka!_ " she called standing up and stretching. Tatsuya stepped back to give her space as she grabbed her book, but as she arched her back and lifted her arms she pushed into his space only to see him shuffle nervously. "I just fell asleep. Of course, I'm alright!"—a dry lie that cracked across her lips even as she forced her pseudo-pout—"How come the Chizu doesn't have an honorific, but you won't call me by just my name?"

"You weren't sleeping. Your eyes were open." He frowned, not falling for her tricks; by now, he knew them all, but he answered her question regardless. "And it's respectful! I'm supposed to be your bodyguard."

"So what? Think I tripped and hit my head or something?" Mitsuki asked with a sly glance.

Tatsuya's cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink—too much emotion for someone in delicate teenage years in her opinion—but he didn't deny her accusation. Mitsuki's talent of noticing small details usual meant torment on his end.

She waved her hand noncommittally at him, making a face.

Flustered, he quickly defended, "You could have been attacked or something! It's my duty to protect you. Your father would kill me if I let anything happen to the future Head."

Scoffing, Mitsuki grinned cockily, pointing a thumb at her chest and asked, "Who would really want to take on a captain, eh Taya?"

It was a crazy statement. Both knew it.

In war, no one hesitated. A single moment could be life or death and one mistake could end everything. Mitsuki laughed, bending back and letting the feeling flow, even as Tatsuya shook his head with a smile. They needed to laugh and joke about it. If not, the weight of the consuming pain and blood-curdling grief threatened to overcome them both.

The hands were always there, waiting, itching to latch on and drag her under, peeling back her flesh, and twisting her guts until the inside was out.

So they laughed.

* * *

Toka stomped towards the Eastern Gate as sunlight crested the sky. A sharp wind blew and the trees whistled as air rushed through hibernating branches. The world shivered in deathly silence, and every step through the frigid forest sent Toka's teeth grinding together in aggravation.

Damn Tobirama for picking her to collect Hashirama from the village gates like a greenhorn. The man was practically as powerful as a god in idiot's clothing. Even better, Madara, the greatest and deadliest Uchiha known, traveled with the dolt. No ninja alive held onto a big enough ego to think they needed to protect those two. Heaven bless any fool cocky enough to challenge the two of them together to battle. Together, the two hardly required an escort, let alone someone to coddle them back and forth inside the safety of the village walls.

Toka had never been sent on such an insignificant, infuriating, and utterly _ignoramus_ mission in her life. Every foul curse imaginable flashed through her mind. All she wanted was to get her hands around Tobirama's scrawny neck and throttle sense back into that big hollow brain of his. The sun wasn't out yet, and half frozen muck already crept up her leg wrappings with every rushed step towards the gate. Kami, she was ordered to be a babysitter.

Mori trailed a few steps behind Toka along the thawing path, feet crunching lightly in the frost and hands resting behind his head. Last night, having Mori over to help her get out of bed on time seemed like a marvelous idea. Mornings deserved nothing less than a spit in the face. Now, not only did she have to drag herself out of bed at this unholy hour, but after Mori's attempts to brighten her morning, they were running _late_. Toka snarled, glancing towards the sky to see the sun beginning to rise.

When her foot slipped, Toka's fragile control snapped.

"Hurry up, idiot!" she barked. "And stop that _damn_ humming before I make you!"

Mori blinked. Toka's back twitched irritably. Without even looking, she knew that the crisscrossed scar above his right eye bunched up awkwardly above his attempted raised eyebrow. He used the same look every time she caught him thinking. Against her wishes, Toka stopped, her body vibrating with angry energy.

Mercifully, Mori's low-pitched voice remained neutral as he said, "Okay." Nothing else. Not a single word or sign giving her any other reason to yell.

For once, Toka wished her boyfriend couldn't read her as well as he did; getting rid of some tension sounded perfect right now, but there weren't many reasons to punch an agreeable man. One of the perks of being a great genjutsu user laid in Mori's precise observations. They might be the sole reason Toka stopped herself at picturing her fist slamming into his face as she stomped ahead. It hardly satisfied her indignation — he wouldn't be the one listening to Tobirama gripe if they were late picking up his dear brother — but it was a start.

Mori grinned when Toka glared over her shoulder and only the rising sun stopped her from leaving Hashirama and Madara's asses at the gate to teach some deserved manners as a snarl pulled across her crimson lips. "Then move it!" she growled, not waiting to see if he took her advice as she stormed forward again.

If she didn't get to that gate before Hashirama showed up with his exhausted entourage, Tobi might actually skin her alive. There was no way she would let him get such leverage over her for the rest of existence. The man had enough reason to be angry already. Hashirama's little trip to see the Daimyo had taken four days longer than anticipated, and without Madara to handle Uchiha affairs, Tobirama couldn't move any fine detail negotiation of the Uchiha and Senju peace treaty forward. Not only that but with the unknown shinobi lurking around the outskirts of the walls and neither founder around to monitor things, Tobirama was trapped inside the gates to look over the village.

When Tobi sent Toka's team to hunt the person down, the only signs of human life were some footprints and campfire residue outside of the village walls. All of the tactical information that the village had gathered of the person's whereabouts led to empty campsites and barren trees. Either they determined the village was too much of a threat or they got the information they needed; neither made telling Tobirama about the situation easier to handle.

The last time Toka reported in, she'd found Tobirama huddled in his office behind mountains of papers and scrolls, studying a woman's comb like it held the secrets of the universe. Words couldn't describe her concern and confusion.

Toka didn't ask.

On top of that, when Toka met up with the two shinobi charged with spying on Mitsuki, Toka realized exactly why Tobirama looked perplexed each time Mitsuki came up in conversation.

The woman lived in the middle of nowhere, far from the main village. Her hut was barely within the walls, unregistered and filled with children. From the awkward design and amateur building skills, clearly, the house was built outside of Hashirama's jurisdiction. With unsanctioned construction and the mysterious lack of immigration papers, she was an illegal alien. That alone served as more than enough suspicion to bring her in for questioning. At first, Toka wondered why Tobirama didn't just do that: bring her in. Sit Mitsuki down with Mori for an hour or two, and she'd sing like a canary; the man was Head of Interrogation for a reason. All of the doubt and tiptoeing eggshells could end with a thorough questioning.

It wasn't until the first moment Toka laid eyes on Mitsuki that the gravity of the situation revealed itself.

The woman looked nothing like Toka expected. Mitsuki was short, nearly painfully so, and abnormally thin. If Toka didn't know better, it would have been easy to mistake her for a young girl. Since she didn't wear kimonos as most other women in the village, it was easy to see the narrowness of her legs and the harsh angles of her face screamed scavenger. She was too thin, thin in the anorexic, _I haven't eaten for months kind of way_. She looked more like a tiny bird than human. A small fluttering sparrow with exotically bright eyes and too dark of skin to naturally blend in with the Fire Nation. She couldn't be the same person that had Tobirama combing the village on little sleep. Mitsuki hardly looked capable of opening a sealed jar, let alone fighting. A mother of four children finding the time to volunteer as a saint for the people, then busting into the most secure and fortified place within the Fire Nation? No way.

Toka followed Mitsuki around for two days—watching as she talked to all the shop owners, took supplies around the village, and worked in the tiny flower shop—and the worst reality came true. Nothing was wrong. Not a single thing looked out of place. Mitsuki was perfect. Everyone knew her. Despite knowing next to nothing about her, everyone Toka talked to waxed poetry about her virtues. There wasn't a single second of the day where she was unaccounted for by someone in around the village. Making medicine. Helping elderly. Adopting orphans. Kissing babies.

 _Perfect._

Then, after slaving to the bone all day, Mitsuki walked straight back to her undocumented house, helped cook dinner for her children, then retired to bed where she slept soundly through the night to start the straight-laced day over again.

No matter how hard Toka searched, nothing else happened.

Dangerous. The entire situation spelled danger, especially if Mitsuki was capable of what Tobirama feared. Breaking past Uzumaki seals, slipping through reinforced security, and prancing around secret information like a damn taunt: if Mitsuki could accomplish that under their noses, well, Toka had to admit that bringing her in for questioning and indicating that the village was suspicious might tip the scales in a way no one wanted to witness.

No one naturally suspected a person like her. With a snake living this far within Konohagakure's walls, who knew how many people Mitsuki twisted around her fingers and tricked with her lies. Jin was a good shinobi, and Toka trusted his judgment and honesty in his report, but Tobirama had gained his reputation as a cut-throat strategist for a reason.

Scowling, Toka tried not to brood as she marched onward towards the gate. No matter how many times she turned the matter over in her mind, Toka hadn't made a decision. She knew to expect secrets and misunderstanding when stepping into someone's shoes, but the way Tobirama burned every time Mitsuki came up in conversation…

Toka glared up at the sky, stringing together every curse again in frustration. Someone else should have been sent out to babysit Hashirama and Madara instead. Toka needed more time, a different angle to look into Mitsuki. At some point, Mori started humming behind her again, a soft murmuring sound similar to a half-forgotten song, but it offered little comfort.

Her dark eyebrow twitched, smearing her frown into a snarl. Before she turned for a therapy smack, something tingled in the back of her mind that she couldn't place. The feeling was familiar. Toka stopped, eyes sweeping the area, and the faint twinge shifted into a presence approaching slowly from the side.

Mori paused, forgetting his tune as he eyed Toka warily. But, as he opened his mouth, Toka held up a hand, silencing his thoughts. Something loud and sloppy headed towards them, far too direct to be a coincidence. Not when the two most prominent figures in the village headed this way any minute.

"Someone's coming," Toka announced, lifting a hand towards her naginata.

* * *

Mitsuki panted, dripping sweat with each bounding step across the thawing forest. Occasionally muck compromised her footing, jerking her body like a puppet snapping a string, but habit and muscle memory corrected her balance before Mitsuki stumbled. With a grunt, she pushed forward. Judging from the position of the sun cresting along the frozen branches, it took a little under an hour to jog around the village. Decent, but by the slight stitch in her side and the wobbling ache in her bones under each slippery step, Mitsuki groaned at how far she'd fallen.

 _You were born a bird_ , a sonorous voice echoed in her mind; the voice of a leader first, then secondly, a father. _Only your legs are your wings and your hands, your talons. You were born to soar above clouds, high enough that problems of earth cannot touch you and gusts of trouble send you higher to the heavens. As a bird's wings push them through skies, your legs carry you above the tallest mountains and trees._

 _Run._

 _Run until your legs turn into wings, feathers sprout from your arms, and you fly._

Mitsuki forced herself to point her toes, shift her weight towards the balls of her feet, and dig into the mud with the last strength of her exhausted body. _I'm a bird_ , she chanted, repeating the words of her long-dead father. A lie, she realized after contemplating the deaths of her sister and mother and the one person she cherished the most; a lie, like the bird on her thaumatrope spreading its wings to be captured in a cage. Even as lies, the promise of running, of feeling the wind rushing by to take her where problems couldn't reach, those broken encouragements echoed in haunting beauty, like a scratch on a phonograph making the needle skip endlessly.

Running used to be easier. All ninja ran: ran to fight, ran to survive, ran to be free. She ran to think. She ran to feel. With every challenge and push, Mitsuki ran.

Mitsuki stopped and bent over, grabbing her side as a lurch of pain wracked her body. The plague throbbing inside her heart clenched, pulsed, and twisted at the bitter memories flooding her skeletal frame. Always the same ones—blood and drowning, watching the light fade from their eyes—slithering closer until the python choking off her life made her mad. Rubbing didn't sooth the pain. Mitsuki tried.

A deep breath. One. Two.

Clenching her teeth, Mitsuki started running again, falling into the same slippery path she'd followed twice already this morning. Pushing past exhaustion. Past another sleepless night. Past the eyes watching from the windows, spying into the most intimate secrets. Sucking in deep breathes, Mitsuki ran to fly.

At least the three lap dogs hired to spy on her proved easy enough to slip. A long day racing around the village to help everyone, convincing nightly rituals, and a good genjutsu fooled anyone, for a while. Too bad a simple genjutsu that lasted for a few hours took an entire day of chakra reserves. Worse still, getting in and out of the Hokage Tower took an hour itself, if not longer. In the last two days, Mitsuki couldn't make it through the security before time ran out; the chakra stored up for a whole day lasted little over an hour, even with the easiest technique.

With surveillance and added security, Mitsuki didn't have time to wait for her name to be cleared. Halfway across the ninja world, people died. With every passing day, more lost their lives because of the curse slowly rotting them from inside.

At this time of day, Mitsuki knew there were more efficient ways to invest her time. It burned. Every day, leaving the village in vulnerable territory to hunt game and pick herbs, risking exposure of her insomnia at the hospital to maintain access to a medical ninja, and wasting time fixing roofs, weeding gardens, and every other inane task villagers asked for help on provided her valuable intel. Pointless errands when getting information might only take one day to find everything she needed. Right now, with everyone asleep, and the village as helpless as it inevitably was, too much suspicion and too many eyes followed her for Mitsuki to achieve anything. Word already traveled around the village about Toka Senju looking into her, asking everyone questions and digging into her business.

Mitsuki ran faster, pushing too hard to maintain her pace.

Two flickering chakra presences ahead nearly made her knees buckle as she jerked to a stop. She panted, blinking her eyes in the dim light while a place deep in her soul clenched in rhythmic pain. They were definitely there, two shinobi walking up ahead along the path towards the Eastern Gate. For a stuttering second, Mitsuki feared the worst, but after putting her hand on the closest tree, the chakra patterns were different from the two guard dogs tailing her around the village. One of them though, she recognized that presence. It was the third person who had appeared to watch her, flickering in and out of her passive range.

Sensing closer, she studied the flickering energies. Strong. Shinobi. Why they were out this far from the heart of the village at this time of day Mitsuki couldn't guess; the other shinobi stood at the gate. Inside her chest, the trickle of chakra running into her genjutsu at the house told her that they couldn't have discovered her secret.

No. An unlucky coincidence, perhaps.

 _Kami,_ why did fate hate her so much?

Any good ninja worth their salt probably felt Mitsuki's presence by now. Their chakra patterns weren't active in any sensory technique she recognized, but luck never fell on Mitsuki's side. If that ninja, the one with crackling chakra ripping for freedom, watched Mitsuki for a reason, the chances were that they could sense in some capacity.

Slowing to a more civilian speed—and much, _much_ louder like an angry boar thrashing—Mitsuki subtly adjusted her clothes as best as she could to hide her decaying flesh as she got closer. One shape, a man with dark hair and tan skin appeared through the trees, unrecognizable from this distance. Then, a woman, entirely too familiar and every inch as dangerous as Tobirama, met her gaze as if she'd been waiting, hand already on the hilt of a deadly naginata.

Toka, the most powerful kunoichi in the Senju Clan and the woman who stood in front of the entire village to announce Hashirama as Hokage, stood by the strange man. Her weapon glowed in the growing light of the morning in a firm grip, and Mitsuki critical eye picked out the elegant lacing covering the hilt of the dark staff. Naginatas specialized in battering opponents before stabbing them. Their extended reach proved tricky against swords, and Mitsuki didn't have a single doubt that Toka knew every inch of her blade's capabilities. Even when Mitsuki stepped out of the trees, Toka's grip never eased.

Swallowing down her nerves, Mitsuki forced her body to relax. The fact that Toka looked into her around the village didn't mean she'd successfully found anything. Mitsuki spent hours locking her cover story airtight with everyone. Suspicious, but not deadly. _Yet_. Mitsuki took a second to stoop over, bracing her weight against her knees for greedy, unnecessary gulps of air to mentally compose herself with the cheery smile everyone knew. Then, without any more hesitation, she looked up and met the two shinobi's eyes, grinning widely like she practiced.

"Ohayou gozaimasu*," Mitsuki greeting politely for a change. Normally manners hardly mattered, but the last thing she needed was to set off someone intently looking into her less than savory activities. She wiped the sweat from her brow and bowed low. "I didn't expect to see anyone out this early."

Toka's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but eventually, her grip on the blade eased. Mitsuki hid her triumphant grin. She carefully kept her gaze towards the taller man, despite knowing who the greater threat to her safety was, attempting to appear as ignorant as possible. The light green eyes and tan complexion marked him blessedly separate from the Uchiha Clan. A small mercy, but the crisscrossing scars on his face tugged his even proportions down into a natural slanted eye and frown. The man stood relaxed, hands in his pockets, but Mitsuki wasn't foolish enough to believe that he couldn't attack in a second.

"Ohayou," he greeted, a beat too late when Toka failed to respond.

An awkward second fell between them, tight and writhing with burning expectation. Instead of yammering like she wanted to, Mitsuki held her tongue to get a better gauge of the situation. She waited, hiding behind the ruse of evening her breathing and wiping off sweat until one of them made the first move.

Toka, clearly in charge between the two, spoke first. "I don't believe we've met before." Her voice resonated deep for a woman, plainly neutral yet hauntingly accusing.

"Ah, no," Mitsuki smiled with all teeth, feeling Toka's sharp eyes watching her soul. The woman squared her shoulders with Mitsuki's, subconsciously or not, and the challenge nearly made Mitsuki's grin split. She shook her head. "I don't think we have."

Then, she waited.

Toka's eyebrow twitched, spasming before the woman could lock down the emotion and this time Mitsuki's smile came naturally, sensing all the frustration bubbling with her crimson sneer. It might be playing with fire, but there was nothing more satisfying than watching a person wound tighter than a top explode at the smallest thing.

The unknown man waved in a lazy salute, drawing Mitsuki's eye and she mentally nodded at the deflected tension. "I'm Senju Mori," he greeted, voice composed and oddly formal for such casual posture. Waving a careless hand towards Toka, he continued, "This is Senju Toka."

"A pleasure," Mitsuki nodded.

The fact that lies were falling from her lips so smoothly made the self-loathing swirl in Mitsuki's throat. It tasted like bile.

"My name's Mitsuki." With a quick glance at them, she tried to surmise the purpose of their outing and mentally ran through a list of possible missions requiring an unknown shinobi and one of the strongest kunoichi in the village. "I hope I didn't interrupt a mission," Mitsuki offered, subtly prying for a better explanation.

"I didn't realize anyone ran these parts of the woods so early," Toka cut in.

Mitsuki blinked dumbly. The juxtaposition between Mori's polite formality and the brash intrusion startled Mitsuki's thought process for a moment. Mouth open in mid-thought, Mitsuki second guessed it and hid a chuckled instead. Accusation shouldn't have been too surprising really, but maybe it made Mitsuki naive to hope for something better. Controlling conversations never worked against such a single-minded individual. _So impatient,_ Mitsuki laughed. Angry people never won arguments; they just shouted until no one wanted to encourage them with an answer.

"Um," stuttered out Mitsuki's eloquent response. She furrowed her brows, unsure whether or not acting clueless could be worse than alluding to some omnipotent awareness, but in the end, couldn't stop herself from pushing the limits. Toka's brow twitched heavily when she stumbled and it brought true glee watching someone who stalked her day and night suffer a bit. "I'm sorry?"

Toka stared like a shark.

Mitsuki couldn't exactly tell them she ran every morning when she gave up on sleeping when she wasn't breaking into the Hokage Tower. Not when Toka and the two shinobi staring at a sleeping illusion believed she slept soundly each night.

The trickle of chakra slipping out to maintain her genjutsu tweaked, thinning dangerously and threatening to break the thread and Mitsuki flinched before she could stop herself. The two ninjas sharpened, looking closer. _Shit._ Any hope of leaving this without prying questions vanished and Mitsuki desperately reined in the acute agony pulling at her chest.

Too long. She'd been gone too long and the jutsu begged to be released. Too much longer and—

"Are you okay?" Mori asked, startling Mitsuki out of her calculations.

Mitsuki smiled. "It's fine. I just—I ran longer than I thought. I'll be ok." _If I leave now,_ Mitsuki added mentally. She rubbed her chest and waved off his concern.

"If you're sure," Mori allowed.

Toka's straight posture hadn't shifted an inch since Mitsuki saw her between the trees. She definitely suspected something. Mitsuki watched thoughts race across her face in an interesting micro collection of expressions, but whatever she wanted to say, she thought better of it. Before things got worse, Mitsuki gave a low bow, smiling tight to duck out. "I'm sorry again to bother you but I—"

"Toka!" a deep voice hollered.

Mitsuki froze.

No. _No, no no,_ Mitsuki willed, freezing parallel to the ground at the sound of that voice way out here in the middle of the woods.

Slowly, Mitsuki turned, looking towards the sun-crusted trees along the path where Hashirama Senju, the Hokage, walked towards them. At his side, none other than Madara Uchiha followed, leading a group of well-dressed people and well-worn ninja. A clan banner drifted from the back of the growing entourage, waving gently with each step. Mitsuki's blood ran cold. She didn't recognize the clan symbol proudly flapping on the front, but she was familiar with what it meant: the head of a foreign clan, unaligned and unrestricted by the village lingered in that group, someone important enough to warrant six shinobi guards.

This didn't look good for her, _not at all._ The burning on the back of her neck flared drastically, and Mitsuki's hair stood on end with the malicious intent. She couldn't bring herself to steal more than a glance at Mori and Toka. The vicious twist of her crimson lips and daggers in Toka's eye could kill. Slice Mitsuki's belly and pour out the gesturing lies in front of the two strongest men in the nation. Even Mori, as passive and uninterested as he'd been, straightened and stared. The chances of finding an unknown, untrustworthy person running before dawn on a rarely used path that the Hokage, his closest advisor, and another Clan Head were using to get back into the village was too hard to believe, even to her own ears.

This wasn't as simple as slipping up on chakra control. The village wouldn't send out a few ninjas to watch and make sure things were ok. People believed to be after the Hokage died. At least, they did back in her Compound; how could she ever forget that when she was the one sent to cut the delicate thread feathering them to this life in the first place? _End of the line._ Maybe they would ask a question or two first, either to lower her guard or to find a driving purpose, but the second Tobirama found out about Mitsuki's past and connected it to the person infiltrating the village the game was over.

Habit saved the small trickle of chakra keeping her illusion alive across the village. The delicate connection nearly dissipated as Mitsuki soul shivered.

A tightening in her chest bloomed into a fog hazing her mind.

Panic, Mitsuki realized numbly. The fluttering of her heart and the sudden hollow point behind her knees making her wobble came from panic. Mitsuki tried swallowing only to find the motion stuck in her throat. As she straightened up from her bow and turned to face Hashirama's cheerful wave, her fingers trembled at her side. Next, to him, Madara walked, chin tucked firmly behind his high collar and the dark mane of hair falling casually across one eye.

Suddenly, a familiar head stepped far enough out from behind an unknown shinobi. The high ponytail keeping his dark hair from his face had seen better days, but there was no mistaking Noboru's strange bandages and light eyes. Why Keiko's boyfriend walked behind the Hokage and Uchiha Clan head, Mitsuki didn't know, but something vital clicked back into place. The trembling in her hands stopped and for a second, Mitsuki could think.

This wasn't the end. Tobirama didn't have anything concrete to use against her; she'd made sure of it. Running into Hashirama and Madara didn't spell catastrophe. Difficulty, maybe, but certainly not death. Neither had any reason to suspect her.

The only dangerous person around right now was Toka.

Recomposing herself, painfully, awkwardly, Mitsuki hid the lingering ache of chakra exhaustion, shoved the panic and traces of paranoid fear deep down where she couldn't touch. Like a mannequin snapping arms, legs, and joints back into place with the pull of strings, Mitsuki's shoulders dropped into a relaxed stance, her weight shifted off the balls of her feet as if she was going to run, and the tension buried inside her where no one could see. She smiled again. Villagers were happy to see their Hokage. Everyone spoke of how happy and kind Hashirama was; there was no reason to panic meeting him. As the reconstructed pieces of her smile clicked into place, Mitsuki _breathed._

"Hashirama-sama," Toka greeted with a slight bow. "Madara-sama. I'm glad to see you have arrived safely. I apologize for not meeting you at the gate as planned." Behind her shoulder, Mori bowed as well, even as he stole another glance in Mitsuki's direction. "We didn't expect you until full sunrise."

Mitsuki glanced at the sky, realizing it had gotten brighter than she expected. By now Takeda and the others were probably awake, waiting for her illusion to join them for their usual escapades outside the village gates. At this rate, the time she'd set aside as cushion for her technique would wear off before she could even make it back to the house.

Not good.

Eyeing the group as they came to a stop, Mitsuki calculated the best solution was to slip away without drawing too much attention. Outside of Noboru, Madara, and Hashirama, the other six shinobi were unknown, including a tall man in a high collar and small dark glasses hiding his eyes. She wouldn't need to address or answer questions from them. From the position of the shinobi around the man, he must be the leader of the clan. Thankfully her position in the village didn't give her any reason to talk to him.

Hashirama laughed, the sound booming and genuine. A tingle of warm spread in Mitsuki's gut, and she couldn't help but stare as he threw his head back, hands on his hips. "No worries, cousin. Afterall, it was my fault we're a day late to begin with!"

 _A day late?_ The tantalizing information dangled like a steak on a stick. A million questions raced through Mitsuki's head in words she didn't know how to speak.

Part of Mitsuki wanted to step in, introduce herself, and get this interaction over with before too much chakra sucked out of her soul, but the larger part got caught up staring at the marvel of Hashirama _right there_. After all this time, over almost two months in this village, she'd never allowed herself this close. He had a kind face, slightly rounded but matured and framed by his long, chocolate hair. At the very least, he was the opposite of Tobirama, natural warm colors in his cheeks, crinkles where laugh lines were forming, and a brightness to his dark eyes. The strongest man Mitsuki had ever met, with the power to build nearly an entire village in a _day._

Madara huffed next to him, leveling a glance his way, but to Hashirama's credit, the heavy glare didn't affect his cheerful laughter. Mitsuki stood on the receiving end of that look more than enough for slipping into the Uchiha compound for comfort; seeing it still instilled the same unease at being on the receiving end.

To move things along, Mitsuki shifted forward and bowed formally in a way that made her body ache with memories. "Ohayou gozaminous, Uchiha-sama. I hope your trip went well." As bad as titles tasted on her tongue, Madara demanded nothing less than the utmost respect and tradition that his title demanded. If it kept him satisfied and those deadly red eyes of his locked away, Mitsuki would treat him like a king.

Madara nodded once, shifting his cross-armed stare towards her, forever analyzing and assessing. "It did, Mitsuki-san." His voice rumbled in a smooth baritone, cutting across Mitsuki's skin and trembling inside her bones. When he tilted his head in acknowledgment, Mitsuki finally stood.

Hashirama perked up and cut in without shame, and Toka finally broke position towards her left, shifting to cross her arms in distaste. "You two know each other?"

"Mitsuki?" Noboru cut in.

He looked decidedly worse for wear, large bags under his eyes from night watches and dirt covering his clothes. Yet, the question couldn't have come at a better time. Whether he knew that he saved her from the Hokage's curiosity and Toka's wrath or not, Mitsuki felt grateful all the same. "'Morning Noboru," she drawled with a happy wave. "I didn't expect to see you out here."

"I should be the one saying that," he said nearly too low to hear. Mitsuki's ears were too sharp to miss the raised eyebrow and muttered grumble. Regardless, she ignored it. "What're you doing out here?"

Hashirama's head appeared around Madara's shoulder, leaning around like a child cut out of the conversation. Madara's brow twitched. "Ah, you know Noboru as well," Hashirama grinned. "Mitsuki, was it?"

"Yes…" Mitsuki agreed hesitantly, sensing something brewing.

She watched Madara step slightly to the side, only to be reeled back in with a hand on his red armor-clad shoulder. With astounding self-restraint, Madara squeezed his eye shut instead of reacting, even as a flash of deadly intent flickered in the air briefly. Mitsuki stared at Hashirama's relaxed grin. Anyone who ignored such blatant signs of resistance to someone hovering behind them stumbled through life on the dumb luck of a fool or must be too confident to care. Mitsuki blinked, willing her gaze away from the odd pair to the ignored men standing with all their importance.

Toka's burning stare was easier to ignore than Mitsuki imagined, considering the woman looked ready to acquaint her naginata with Mitsuki's eye.

"We've met, Hokage-sama," Mitsuki acknowledged with a polite bow. "We met a while back when I took some food to one of the construction sites, and again at the coronation. He—" Madara watched carefully and Mitsuki's tongue froze. For a second it felt too easy to shift the conversation off her strange appearance and babble about Noboru dating Keiko when it wasn't her information to tell. _Kami, that was close,_ Mitsuki cursed. There was no way Keiko told the clan head, someone who chased out intruders in his clan compound in the village, knew about her dating a Senju. "Um," she stuttered on, scratching the back of her neck. "Nevermind. It's not important."

Toka shared a look with Mori out of the corner of Mitsuki's eye, but Hashirama's blatant stare back at Noboru looked too cute with how he blushed under the attention. From the sheepish look Noboru shot Madara, he clearly understood what secret Mitsuki almost spilled.

The nagging drain at the left of her heart lurched again in a painful reminder of the time.

"That's wonderful!" Hashirama cheered. Madara finally managed to wrench himself from his grip, but Hashirama's attention kept shifting back and forth from herself to Noboru too often for him to care. "It's nice to see a villager out and about so early in the morning."

Mitsuki _really_ didn't have time for whatever Hashirama was going to say as he opened his mouth again. She didn't feel any remorse for cutting in to change the focus off her relationship with Noboru.

Distractions worked best when painfully polite.

"Hajime-mashite*." She greeted the unknown clan head with a deep bow, keeping her eyes lowered respectively. The previous ignored person of importance straightened at the acknowledgment, and Mitsuki prayed to any god listening that the clan head wasn't as long winded as he appeared to be reclusive. "Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. Please call me Mitsuki."

The clan head stood taller than most of the others, his face mostly hidden by the high collar of his long jacket. Bowed nearly parallel to the ground as she was, Mitsuki couldn't read the expressions of his face—at least what little she might be able to tell with his eyes hidden by dark glasses—but Mitsuki didn't chance a glance towards his face. Eye contact during a bow was a severe insult. The etiquette lessons instilled in her as a young girl taught her that much before murder replaced the itinerary.

"The pleasure is mine, Mitsuki-san," a light voice answered, smooth and soft as silk. "I am Sugaru Aburame, Head of the Aburame Clan."

Mitsuki straightened with a bright smile. From the slight turn of his cheeks, Mitsuki allowed herself the pride of earning a smile, however small it might be, and officially marked a positive first impression off her list. No one ever knew who might come in handy in a village of ninja. The man wasn't an ally yet, after all.

With all of the introductions and explanations finished, all that remained was making an excuse to escape.

"Well, I'm sorry—" Mitsuki tried.

Fate stepped in again.

" _Caw!_ "

Mitsuki looked up with the rest of the group at the shrill sound. By now, the sun had started breaching the tree branches, casting a bright yellow halo that bled into a hazy purple. It silhouetted the dark bird, flying relatively low in the sky, though it hovered too far to identify the species. It was too close to be natural.

Mitsuki's heart lurched painfully loud.

"Isn't that a hawk?" one of the guards asked. No one offered an answer.

The Clan Head hummed. "It's strange to see a bird this early."

"A messenger hawk," Madara clarified needlessly. Every ninja in the group had to be thinking it. Mitsuki glanced down and froze, seeing the burning red glowing in Madara's eye.

Swallowing back the icy chill making her palms clammy, Mitsuki carefully blinked and twisted her face into surprise and wonder. "You really think so?" By the time Madara turned that deadly promise of trapped torture towards her, Mitsuki stared up at the bird again, holding a hand and squinted in an attempted better look. Madara's gaze wasn't the only one staring into her soul. "Isn't that how ninja send messages?"

The beat of silence only could have lasted a split second. In her head, Mitsuki agonized how long it felt, every fraction stabbing into her like a fresh headache.

"It seems we need to get going," Hashirama concluded. His light ease and cheerful smile was gone. His voice echoed with the resolve that shook the foundations of ninja life, and Mitsuki couldn't help herself from staring out of the corner of her eye.

"Of course, Hokage-sama," the ninja guards, including Mori, chimed immediately. Toka's voice chorused in a beat too late as her eyes bored into the side of Mitsuki's face. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

Another stab of chakra deprivation ripped through Mitsuki's heart, contracting more frequently with every moment. The stab lurched her ribs towards her heart, and Mitsuki couldn't wait any longer. Forcing an awkward smile, Mitsuki nodded and offered up, "I need to get going to. The kids will probably be up soon and I've got to get started on breakfast."

For some reason, everyone paused. Mitsuki tried not to look as she waved and bowed to people as their status demanded; the reaction was hardly new considering most people saw her as too thin or small to have children. She ignored the few eyes turning to stare at Noboru was well.

"Of course," Hashirama nodded. He smiled wide, looking between the two of them quickly. "It was nice to meet you, Mitsuki-san."

Mitsuki ignored Madara's raised eyebrow, turned to bow deeply at the clan head, and was off before logic demanded a more formal escape. The civilian speed must have looked as slow and sad as it felt, and the second she was sure no one could see her, Mitsuki stretched her legs and ran.

Toka's narrowed gaze followed her all the way into the woods like chains slowly choking in around her neck.

* * *

Mitsuki looked up at the sky before getting too close to her house, allowing her steps to naturally fall silent against the ground again. In the distance, the dark blotch in the sky still circled lazily, too far to be connected with one person, but flying too close to the village to be mistaken as anything but shinobi communication. Once Hashirama or one of the others checked the message traffic of the village everyone would know someone was sending information around the village.

With a deep breath, Mitsuki let out two low whistles. They resonated in the still forest, hanging like a noose in the air.

After a beat, a hawk flew down, feathers deceptively dark and unidentifiable in the low lighting. It wasn't large, nothing unusual, and it certainly wouldn't garnish a second glance out in the wild with its matte brown plumage.

Birds were beautiful creatures.

Mitsuki offered out an arm for the bird to perch on as it came closer.

Sharp claws latched around her forearm to stop the light jerk of motion. The hawk cocked its head in a way only animals seemed to do, but oddly remained silent. Its great large yellow eye stared intently towards her, flexing its claws as if testing the strength of the flesh underneath her sleeve. Mitsuki snorted lightly, wondering what her summons must think feeling the terror nightmares left.

"Maa, maa, Naux," Mitsuki teased, voice lacking the typical luster. "You're gonna make me turn gray coming in around other people like that." She couldn't find the strength to pull her face into anything more convincing than a weak smile considering the fire burning hotter each second she lingered from the house. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" she mused, knowing she wouldn't get an answer.

Naux blinked his large yellow eye and nipped at the delicate feathers underneath his wing. Mitsuki took a quick moment to check for any injuries or strains, but as always he looked as clean and fit as usual. No damage festered over the ragged scar robbing the hawk of one eye, and not a feather looked out of place.

Without further ado, Mitsuki reached down to the small white scroll attached to his leg. She tapped her shoulder with two fingers and waited until he waddled slowly up her arm to perch next to her head, nibbling lightly on her ear with his razor-sharp beak.

"You've got to be more careful flying in now," Mitsuki continued to prattle, as she stared at the compact seal along the scroll. A front, honestly, Mitsuki didn't even think of how she filled the silence as she took in the advanced jutsu. A familiar one at least. The swirling kanji blurred into a twisting design along the edge of the paper that would ruin the contents if not removed in the proper order; a three-step security measure she'd come up with back in the Kenshin Compound when she led the troops. "That could have caused a lot of trouble."

The chakra burn was becoming unignorable now. There was no chance she could open the message here. Not like this.

Mitsuki hummed, slipping the scroll into one of the dozen hidden pockets of her clothing before tweaking Naux's beak fondly. Getting the message, he maneuvered back down her arm when she held it up.

"All of this cold weather must be hard on your feathers," Mitsuki murmured, stroking them gently. Her fingers were deft and light as she eased along the soft under feathers where the chill in the air still caused a slight shutter. For a moment the large yellow eye closed before Naux snapped towards her fingers. Mitsuki smiled. "I'm sorry. I don't have anything today. Next time, I'll make you a special treat."

Naux fluttered his feathers in a huff and took off in a flurry of movement. "Have a straight flight!" Mitsuki called after him. "May the wind be under your wings."

She stared, watching as he lifted higher and higher. Soon, her hawk was nothing more than a dot in the early sky. For a second, she stood there, wishing impossible things.

Time was almost up.

Turning, she ran back towards her home, clenching a hand to her chest at the searing pain. She sensed out for the two sets of eyes, always watching where they'd been almost two hours ago. With the little chakra she had left, Mitsuki formed the rat seal, pooling everything into a short trick. The cringe was unavoidable as the liquid fire ripped through her veins when it activated.

One minute.

In a flash, she leaped through the window of her house. The second she laid down on her sheet, both techniques lifted. A soothing cascade of relief washed over the exhausted chakra pathways throughout her body, like air rushing into a person's lungs after holding their breath for too long. Mitsuki sat up, ignoring the wetness on her cheeks.

 _You were born to soar above clouds, high enough problems of earth cannot touch you and gusts of trouble send you higher to the heavens_ , the voice of her father promised. _You were born a bird._

Completely debilitated, Mitsuki forced herself up, through the movements for the day. Takeda stood outside her door, waiting in his painful plainness. He frowned when he saw her, and for once, forcing a cheerful smile didn't quite work.

She could only think of her hawk, flying away in the sky.

* * *

 __ **Translations/meanings:**

 _Ohayou gozaimasu_ -Good Morning

 _Hajime-mashite_ \- greeting used for the first time meeting someone, it's nice to meet you, comes from **hajimeru** , to begin


End file.
